Ain't No Rest For The Wicked
by Zelda Zonkk
Summary: S2. "We'll vanish. We'll be totally new people, Em, I promise. Nothing is going to stop us. You just have to trust me." "Frankly, I'm sick of trusting convicts. You're lucky I love you, Michael." MichaelxOC.
1. Manhunt

**Ain't No Rest For The Wicked – Prologue – Manhunt**

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><p><em>I was once what you are, and what I am you will become.<em>

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><p>When I was four years old, I decided I wanted to be famous. Being a singer was my first choice. Then I slowly came to the realization that I couldn't sing – <em>at all<em>. That dream went out the window, which was fine by me. I would become an actress instead. What's not to like? Fame, fortune, probably some attractive co-stars. Though joining a drama class was as close to acting as I'd ever truly get. I was over-confident. That dream of acting lasted until I found a book on body language and psychology in the school library, when I was there to research a project.

I decided that's what I'd rather do than be an actress. Being famous didn't matter so much anymore. Only now we would be famous for all the wrong reasons, my new buddies and I. All of America would know who we were, wouldn't they? Until we vanished. Until our names were wiped from everyone's memories. We'd just be known as 'those guys who got out of prison'. That would be the ideal situation. Here I was, running through the woods with five convicts panting and sweating behind me.

Theodore's screams rang in my head as Lincoln stopped me from slipping in mud. Abruzzi had to handle it himself, almost landing completely in it. Fortunately, he found his footing before he kept going. Michael was right behind us, though he and Sucre struggled to keep up the most out of all of us. In a surprising turn of events, we began helping one another now more than ever. C-Note looked paler, his eyes darting back and forth. He would die before he went back to Fox Rivers, going to such extreme lengths for his family.

"Keep going, come on!" Abruzzi yelled.

I slowed a little, planning on staying with Michael, but he anticipated this. "Don't worry…about us Em…just run as fast as you can!"

Every noise, even a twig snapping made us jump. It had been hours since we'd escaped. My lungs burned, my head throbbed and my eyes stung from exhaustion. The plan had always been in theory and based on luck, but now that we were really out here – we had actually _done it_! – it was more...frightening. So real and serious. Extra time on our sentence would be the least of our worries now.

The sound of dogs barking will always make my heart thump after this, I was sure of it. If I made it, that is. There was always a chance we wouldn't. We knew that from the moment we started this escape. I wondered if Westmoreland hadn't been stabbed, would he have survived this far? Would Tweener hate me for everything? Was Theodore _dead_? It was hard to imagine living as a civilian. With no guards telling you what to do. No schedules, no gangs and no rivals. Just normal, boring everyday life.

That sounds like a dream right about now.

We came to a stop in a clearing, panting and leaning over, resting our hands on our knees. I wiped some sweat from my brow, hating myself for not exercising more in my lifetime. Lincoln wanted to know where Michael and Sucre were. I looked about, but we all knew they were the slowest out of all of us. There was a sound of a whistle, and C-Note straightened up immediately. I listened to them, half-focusing on the noise and the other half waiting for Michael.

I saw nothing, and I frowned impatiently.

"Emilie!" Abruzzi called. "_Come on_!"

When I hesitated, he decided to just pull me along until I had to start running. There was a train, which I believed Lincoln wanted us to jump on at first. I glanced back towards the bushes, desperately searching for Michael and Sucre. They couldn't have been caught, could they?

"All we've gotta do is make it to the other side!" Lincoln yelled. "Make it to the other side!"

Easier said than done.

Sucre appeared, and I smiled when I saw Michael. Thank God, he hadn't fallen behind or anything. It gave me the chance to focus on running to the other side of the train. In a short few seconds, I managed to pass out the others. I hoped it was because I was smaller and lighter, but I'm not sure. I wasn't very good at sports when I was younger, but hey, I wasn't doing too bad right now. My lungs felt like they could burst, yet I was still going.

I jumped first, with Lincoln crashing right into me. It didn't hurt. The adrenaline would wear off later, and then I'd feel it. Abruzzi and C-Note followed, but yet again I panicked for Michael and Sucre. Lincoln stopped when he saw I wasn't following, and he slowly came to realize Michael hadn't been keeping up. If we lived, I was going to force him to run a race-track every single day for the rest of his life.

"Michael!" I yelled, my voice sounding a little hoarse and out of breath. I wasn't loud enough, and Lincoln began joining in, both of us yelling Michael's name. The dogs were getting closer and louder. Any second now they'd come for us, I know it. He could make it….He had to make it! Michael would never give up, not when we'd gotten this far. Lincoln ran, jumping back onto the train with surprising grace. I waited, biting my tongue to stop myself screaming out in frustration. Why do things have to go wrong for us? Is this karma orsomething? Or just plain bad luck?

A gun shot went off.

Then I let go of my scream, thinking Michael had been shot.

"Aw shit man!" C-Note gasped. "Shit!"

Abruzzi blessed himself with respect, as if he thought Michael or Lincoln had been shot, but he turned to begin running again. I stood in one spot, eyes wide. My ears strained to hear something. Even the dogs had stopped barking for a few seconds. It started up again once the shot had rung out. Lincoln appeared first, rolling to the ground with a grunt. When I saw Michael, my knees went weak from the relief.

We had lost too many people as it was. I couldn't lose Michael.

If he had still been chained to Theodore, he wouldn't have made it this far, and we all knew that. I didn't move until he got up, and limped for a second. Had he hurt himself? No, thankfully he hadn't. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along. My sides were stinging from effort. Ow.

After another painstaking few minutes of running, we had to slow down again. I couldn't hear the dogs. I couldn't hear anything. The train must've blocked them. This was valuable time. I panted, focusing on taking the deepest breaths imaginable. Oh God, I could pass out and sleep on the ground, it wouldn't bother me. Any place I could rest for just a few seconds.

"Did you see all those guys back there?" Sucre asked.

"The key thing is they're back there, and we're up here," Michael said.

"Yeah, and how long is that gonna last?"

"Yeah especially since we don't have a pot to piss in thanks to Abruzzi's magically disappearing jet," C-Note agreed.

"Eh, you were never gonna be on that plane brother." Abruzzi glared in C-Note's direction. Uh-oh. Here we go, fights beginning already.

"Hey and don't think I don't know where you were going either Scofield," C-Note continued, ignoring Abruzzi and pointing at Michael. I looked up at this. Did he mean Panama? Surely he wouldn't care if we went to Panama anyway, the place Michael had spoken of for months on end. Day after day of sitting in the yard, talking about sandy beaches and blue skies. It wouldn't mean anything to C-Note, who wanted to get his family to Mexico.

"Yeah and where am I going?" Michael asked, turning around.

Lincoln's eyes met with mine. Ah, so he didn't know about this either. I shrugged, looking back at Michael. He had glanced between Lincoln and I before facing C-Note. C-Note himself was looking very smug. He took a step closer.

"You know. _Utah_?"

Utah? What happened to Panama?

"When were you planning on telling us about the money man?" C-Note asked.

"What money?" Sucre asked.

Money. No Panama. Utah. Letting Tweener go. There were a lot of things Michael had been keeping to himself in this escape, and I was only finding out about them now. Though Lincoln didn't seem to know anything about Utah or the money either, from the annoyed look on his face. So I wasn't totally alone in the dark. His expression was turning into a mixture of hurt and confusion now.

"Five million dollars that Westmoreland planted in the desert in Utah." Oh…wow. C-Note frowned at Michael expectantly, just waiting for his answer.

Michael looked at my wide eyed expression before he sighed. "I don't know what you're talking about." He walked towards me, pushing me towards the opposite direction of the others. Lincoln joined, looking a little peeved.

"You wish I didn't know," C-Note called.

"Hey, hey, what money man?" Sucre yelled after us.

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><p>It was nice to finally see some good views, with sparkling water and beautiful trees. It wouldn't last long though. We'd stay here for a few minutes, then keep running. Can't stay in one stop for too long, or they'd find us. Is that how my life will be from now on?<p>

As soon as Michael had explained everything about the money while we sat on the pier, crossing our legs and staring into the water, Lincoln was adamant that we dump the others. Michael didn't want to, because now they all knew about Utah. It was obvious that they'd go there. You can't trust cons – I say that because I am one, I've had experience.

"All the more reason to dump 'em," Lincoln shrugged.

"If we get caught, the feds will know exactly where we're going."

"And do you really think they'd keep quiet?" I asked sarcastically. We all knew the answer was no. Lincoln squinted in the bright sunlight, sighing a little. Paranoia was spreading amongst the others, that much was clear. Already the group were beginning to worry about double-crossers, and when none of these guys have a respectable track record of being the good guys, it's kind of hard to decide what to do.

Michael and Lincoln talked about it for a while longer, though I tuned out, thinking of other things. Sucre was the nicest out of all of the other inmates. He had a baby to think about, a real reason to live, a reason to try and find that money. C-Note had a wife and kids. Abruzzi did too, but he was more worried about Fibonacci. Everyone knew the Mob Boss wasn't exactly low on cash, but we couldn't be sure he wouldn't go after it either.

Was David still alive? He had ratted us out to Bellick. I was so stupid for putting so much trust in a kid. He had no experience. I could hardly blame him, living in a cell with Abacado. The man was a well-known pervert, though he'd never made a move on me. Young men were his type. _Tweener_ was his type, and I didn't protect him at all. Once the cells closed, no one could.

"Veronica can't help us," Michael murmured.

I looked up at the sound of her name. I knew her from Lincoln's meetings before, and from what I gather and the little bits of information I've managed to squeeze out of Michael, Lincoln and Veronica had a relationship long before he was sent down. A loving, kind and caring sort of one. He did care a lot about her.

"How can you say that?" Lincoln asked, sitting up slightly. "We don't have money, clothes-…"

I looked between him and Michael, listening intently now. He had a point.

"I already took care of all of that."

"I thought the plan was Abruzzi's jet."

"That was Plan A." Oh trust Michael to come up with another plan. He was a genius. It made me smile with pride that he had thought of the more obvious things the rest of us had forgotten in our panic. We had everything we needed, all thanks to Michael. I hoped.

"Where?" Lincoln asked.

"Storage." He pulled back his sleeve a little.

"Looks like we have work to do. We'll need to find something for her to wear," Lincoln smiled, motioning towards me. "Some old dress, I suppose."

"Oh fine," I sighed dramatically. "I'll find a Gucci dress _somewhere_, I'm sure I can suffice in that. You don't expect me to wear anything less than that." They grinned.

Hopefully if we ever made it to Panama, it would be just like this. No worrying about the police, or death row or crime. Instead we'd spend time talking, relaxing, watching calm ripples in the water. A couple of beers doesn't sound too bad either.


	2. The Manhunt Continues

**Chapter Two – The Manhunt Continues**

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><p>"<em>Don't bite the hand that feeds, expecting to succeed."<em>

**- Bite the Hand, Modestep.**

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><p>We had found a car in the cruellest way possible. Abruzzi held a gun to a little girl's head. I didn't really think we could sink much lower, forcing her father to give us his keys but I guess we're only getting started. The things he would do to get to his family, to kill Fibonacci and vanish forever were sickening. The girl would be scarred from that, surely. Her dad wouldn't let her out of his sight for a very long time.<p>

I sat squeezed between Michael and Abruzzi, because there wasn't any room with Sucre at the back. He was forced to sit beside the cooler, scrunched up against the door of the car. Unfortunately there weren't any drinks or food in it. The car smelled a little stuffy too, but it was the best thing we had. In fact, it was even better than that. It sure beat running for hours on end. I leaned my head back against the seat, closing my eyes for a few seconds.

C-Note was probably the most upset out of all of us. He had a little girl at home – and so did Abruzzi, who had entirely forgotten that fact as he held the gun to that kid's head -, and he felt the most guilt for not protecting her. He couldn't have done anything anyway. I wondered what they were saying about us on the television. I wouldn't mind going down in the Fox River history books as the only female to escape. That wouldn't be a bad title to have, right?

"You know what, that's it. I want Eye-Tie outta the car right now, man, that was a little girl!" C-Note said suddenly. "Don't you have a heart?"

I glanced at Michael. He had probably been anticipating this. Abruzzi rolled his eyes, shoving me over a little to lean forward. We'd have to pick up some clothes in storage. I could try to rip off the top of this blue jumpsuit, maybe try and make them look like normal pants? I was desperate at this point to blend in. Michael had suggested dying my hair. I'm a dark blonde, and he suggested platinum. He thinks they wouldn't expect that, but maybe Michael just likes platinum. I was thinking more along the lines of dark brown or something.

When Abruzzi didn't answer, C-Note continued. "I have a little girl!"

"I got one too," Abruzzi said. "And if I hadn't done what I had to do, we wouldn't be on our way to see them right now, would we?"

He had a point, even if it was a little mean.

"Turn right up here," Michael said. It was the first time he'd talked in a while, making everyone look at him for a few seconds. They were trusting him for the most part. We were surviving this far. We just had a little more things to do, and we'd be free in Panama. Absolutely free.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on where we goin?" C-Note asked, clearly agitated.

"Oswego," Michael answered.

"That's west man, my family's back in Chicago."

C-Note really expected us to go straight to his family, as if every person who was chasing after us wouldn't expect that. I'd like to know if Jess was safe though. They'd go straight to her to try and figure out my profile, see how I tick. Once they figured out what I was like, they'd try to second-guess my every move.

"They know that C-Note," I said quietly. His eyes flashed to meet mine. "They know where your family lives. That's the very first place they'd be going. If you walked through that door, you would be arrested before you could even say 'Honey I'm home!'."

He frowned, but he knew I was right.

"What about New York?" Sucre suggested.

"What about it?" Abruzzi asked.

"My girl's pregnant bro!" Sucre said.

"Understand that your love is your weakness now," Abruzzi sighed. "And they know about it."

"Doesn't mean it has to stop you," Michael smiled. I was a little dazed by him then. It could've been his good looks, or maybe I was just about to pass out from being so thirsty. A car would pass every now and then on the road, and we did our best not to look out. Someone could recognize us easily. If I saw Jess again, I'd get her to make me some cheesecake or something. She's a great cook. Edna told her to stop feeding me, as I was acting like a charity-case, but I certainly couldn't care less about Edna. She's just an old hag with a loud mouth. "You just gotta be smart about it. Get to Oswego."

C-Note wasn't stupid. He knew we spoke the truth. He was just frightened. "Oswego is not on the way Snowflake."

"It's not where Oswego is, it's what's in Oswego," Michael replied.

The journey was more quiet after that. Michael turned to face me more, leaning his side against the car door. We stared at each for a few moments, not truly believing the escape had worked. It felt like if we pinched ourselves, we'd wake up in our cells, working in P.I each day, inching closer and closer to getting out.

But we had done it.

"I told you I could keep a promise," Michael whispered tiredly.

"Yeah, yeah, you proved yourself Almighty Scofield," I laughed. He smiled.

"We're almost there Em. Just a little further. You, me, Linc, LJ. We're so close," he smiled gently. Lincoln's eyes flashed to the car mirror as he smiled too. Sandy beaches, blue skies. It sounded easier in our heads of course. There was still the problem of having most of America's police force after us, if not everyone.

When we got there, Michael quickly gave us our orders. Dig up this grave. He said it like that, as if it was simple. Abruzzi asked if anyone was actually down there, to which Michael laughed and shook his head.

"Nope. Our new disguises are, though," he smiled.

I gave up on digging after a few minutes of unnatural heat. Surprisingly, unlike our time in Fox Rivers, the guys didn't growl at me to help them, they just let me sit for a while. Eventually I got up to help, jumping down into the dirt and grabbing a shovel from Lincoln, who smiled gratefully.

"Thanks for finally helping," he muttered.

"I have standards Lincoln, standards," I said, putting on a posh voice.

"You're an escaped convict," Abruzzi chuckled drily. "You might want to lower them."

The clothes were a little dusty. I hadn't been able to rip my jumpsuit, so the best I could do was wear an old sweater over it until we got something else. Like Mike said, he hadn't expected it. Plus he had underestimated the amount of people that would be coming with him. Getting changed wasn't a problem. The rest of the guys here (perhaps, bar Michael) weren't interested in seeing me undress. They didn't take any sick perversion from it like Theodore would. Or did. He mightn't be among the living anymore…

I fixed Michael's tie for him quickly. The sweater was black, falling over my shoulder a little. I pulled the top of the prison jumpsuit down, so this would look a little fashionable. Michael had white sneakers for me, only a little bit too big.

What surprised me was Michael said he had a passport for me, having arranged it on the outside with his 'wife'. Nika. 'Amelia Finch'. What a name I had. Did I look like an Amelia?

"Guys, guys, guys!" Sucre called. "We got company!"

Oh crap. Michael and Lincoln were at my side in a second, carefully hidden as we watched a black car with tinted windows roll up. Had they already figured out our next move? If they could do it that fast, they'd know about Utah in no time.

A man in a dark suit stepped out, pulling off his sunglasses when he reached the grave. We watched him with horrified expressions.

"Michael," I whispered softly. "What do we do?"

He didn't get a chance to respond. "We gotta roll," Sucre said.

We were off running again, not looking back. We had bigger problems on our hands.


	3. Otis

**A/N:** _You know, I think I have a plan for Season Three. Even if we're only beginning Season Two! :D But still, it can't help to plan things out… Didn't get time to edit this, btw, so sorry if there's any mistakes!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three – Otis<strong>

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><p>"<em>Devil gonna follow me e'er I go, won't do me no good washing in the river, can't no preacher man save my soul."<em>

**- Barton Hollow, The Civil Wars.**

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><p>It's amazing how one piece of clothing changes a person's perspective of you. Michael had given me over thirty dollars to find something to wear in a store just down the road from the park he was sitting in. After months of being locked up in masculine clothing, I automatically drifted towards the dress section. A peppy brown-haired woman bounced over to me and put on her best 'employee-smile'. I knew that smile well. Any worker who had to deal with customers directly put it on each time. I held my breath for just a hesitant moment, because she paused as she looked at me. If she knew who I was, I had been instructed to run for my life.<p>

"Hello ma'am, may I help you?"

I let out that breath slowly, not believing my luck. Unless she was just pretending. She could go to the store room, whip out her cell phone and call the police while I was standing here like an idiot. Michael had warned me that if I did not come out within twenty minutes, he would assume the worst and come in. He was more likely to be recognized anyway. I, on the other hand, could change like a chameleon to fit in. Makeup and hair were my only advantages.

"This dress is just in, unloaded yesterday," the lady smiled.

She held it against me, showing me how nice it was. A black dress, easy to blend in with. The sleeves went to my elbows, with a normal round-neck, and it would go just above the knees. I was a little unsure, but it would have to do. It was the cheapest thing here anyway. I could run in it, too, if it came to that.

"I'll take it. And the flat red shoes over there." I had spotted them out of the corner of my eye. Mainly I knew I could run in them, just like the dress. I'd found some sunglasses to use as well. The hair dye and makeup I found – platinum blonde hair dye, at Mike's suggestion. Perhaps he has a thing for blondes? I should ask him later… - was in the reduced section and I was barely able to afford that. With the rest of my money, I bought a newspaper Michael had asked me to get.

Michael was sitting on a bench when I came out. I was still wearing my prison clothes covered with an ugly sweater. It smelled pretty rank, having been in a grave for a very long time. God only knows where Michael found it. A dumpster? Maybe. But I counted myself lucky I even had clothes right now.

"Okay, you got what you need?" Michael asked. I pulled the newspaper out of the bag and handed it to him.

"Yes sir!" I smiled, giving a fake salute.

He smiled. "There's a bathroom over in that gas station. If you don't come out in twenty minutes-…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You'll come to rescue the damsel in distress. But I'm going to need more than twenty minutes. The hair dye will take a while."

"Fine…forty-five minutes? That's enough, right?"

"Perfect. See you soon Michael!" Kissing him goodbye was one of the best things about being on the outside. He was so sweet and gentle, and it gave me that girly butterfly feelings I hadn't felt in a very long time.

When I entered that bathroom, I tried to look away from the rude drawings covering the slimy, filthy walls. I couldn't even guess what the dark mess in the corner of the stall was. It smelled revolting, but I needed the cracked mirror and the water. Makeup was easy to apply, and I did it as quickly as I could. Getting dressed was a little harder, since I tried not to step in whatever that mess was. Once that was done, it was time to dye my hair. Though it was already blonde, it was a darker, sandier color compared to the color on the box. Here goes nothing. The waiting was the worst part. I was an impatient outlaw. That's me, Emilie the outlaw, a bandit. If you think about it like that, it sounded quite exciting.

I had scanned the pictures on the newspaper before handing it to Michael. There were no stories about any deaths, so that could be good news. It could mean Tweener and Theodore were still alive somewhere, running for their lives. Though it could be a lie, and that the FBI were holding things back from the public. Wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

I desperately hoped that even if Tweener was found, he was put somewhere safe. Not back in Fox Rivers, because Nemmins was back there. When the hair-dyeing process was over, I checked myself in the mirror. The shoes would take a little getting used to, but with the new sunglasses covering me, I thought I looked different. I could get away with it.

Michael stared at me when I walked back to him, letting out a chuckle. "Wow…you look...amazing."

"Thanks Mike," I smiled. "You're not so bad yourself."

His glasses and cap did well to cover him up, but it wouldn't be enough. We needed to vanish. Michael told me to go back to the others where he knew I'd be safe. He held the newspaper in front of him, glancing briefly at the pictures of us on the front. I'm the only one smiling in my mug-shot. The rest are either frowning or just smirking slightly. C-Note looked pissed off. Honestly, does the man ever smile?

As I walked back to the little warehouse at the end of the street, I kept my eyes cast to the ground. Normal civilians walked by without a care in the world. One woman scolded her child while her husband read a newspaper. My face was on the front of it, with Michael's mug-shot just bellow it. The headline screamed "Are These Two Cons The Modern Day Bonnie and Clyde?" That was something I had seen in other papers too. Bonnie and Clyde, that's us, apparently. Real original of the writers.

"Honestly, they can't catch those convicts fast enough!" the woman sighed as she picked up her toddler son. "I don't feel safe knowing those scoundrels are running around doing God knows what!"

Her eyes flashed to meet mine, but she wouldn't be able to see mine through the sunglasses. I flashed her a smile, and she smiled back just as her son began wailing and kicking to be put back down on the ground. She sighed, going back to her normal everyday life. She might never know who I was, and that she and her family had been very close to one of those 'scoundrels'.

Sucre whistled at me as I walked into the old warehouse, laughing at me. "Whoa Em, how come you are allowed to get all dolled up while we sit here lookin' like this?"

"Favoritism," Abruzzi smiled, laughing. "She must have Pretty wrapped around her little finger."

"Shut up John."

He laughed. "See, she knows it, too."

I joined him, rather than listen to C-Note as he tried to wind Lincoln up. Sucre was obviously the middleman there, trying to stop any fights between them. I sat on a step, taking off my shoes and rubbing my sore feet. New shoes would take a while to get used to. John stood in front of me, hovering and totally not knowing what to do.

"Will you return to Jess at all, or stay with the brothers?" he asked suddenly. I had told John all about Jess. He was fascinated by her religious beliefs, always wanting to talk to her, never getting the chance. Who knows, they could meet someday and just go wild on the Bible.

"I think I'll leave Jess alone…at least until things die down. They have phones in Panama. And I can always send postcards."

"Mmmhmm, I understand," John replied.

"Do you think Theodore made it?"

"I doubt it," John answered honestly, looking down at me, straight into my eyes. "Though knowing Theodore, he could be shot a million times and survive. The man knows no bounds. He lost a lot of blood though…You're worrying about the kid, too, aren't you?"

"David you mean? Yeah, of course I'm worried about him John!"

"He'll be fine Em."

"We just left him there!"

I knew John didn't really care that much about Tweener. He had 'more important things' to worry about. But to me, Tweener was very important.

"You want to stay here than shut your mouth!" Lincoln yelled, making both Abruzzi and I look up in surprise. He had lost his temper, but you could hardly blame him. C-Note had been winding him up for hours on end, frustrated with himself because he wants to be with his family.

"One more time man, I dare you to touch me!" C-Note growled back, shoving Lincoln. Sucre quickly tried to stop their squabbling, though he was ignored.

"Hey!"

I spotted Michael from the corner of my eye. I jumped in delight, though it hurt a little after putting my new shoes back on. Abruzzi steadied me, seeing me limp slightly. I ignored it, too intent on being with Michael too care. He still looked adorably nerdy, but he was missing his suit jacket. He had large black bag on his back, which I don't remember him having before.

"Relax," he said, heading towards Abruzzi and I.

My smile widened the moment he got close to us. Lincoln glared at C-Note for a few tense seconds before shrugging him off and stalking off after Michael, catching up in no time. Our surprise was obvious when Michael handed us a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. To say we were hungry would be an understatement, and we sat on the ground, devouring it in moments.

Abruzzi sat on the steps in front of us, eating like a savage. He didn't care about 'table-manners' though. I tried at first to retain a classy image, but ended up smothered in some ketchup. While the guys chatted aimlessly, I reapplied make-up using a little mirror that came with the power.

Abruzzi had a pile of chicken bones in front of me, and I saw Sucre eye the apple in the basket. I shoved it towards him with my foot, turning my attention back to the tough job of putting on some mascara without smudging it. I have to say, I love this new hair of mine.

"Yummy," John smiled, eating some more chicken.

"Gee John, slow it down a little," I laughed, smiling at him.

"Yeah Eye-Tie, leave some for a brother," C-Note frowned.

"C-Note, you need to stop being so grumpy," I chuckled.

"Excuse me if I want to see my family Em, I actually care about their safety."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" I frowned.

"Emilie wants to see her own just as much as you want to see yours," Sucre said, kindly defending me.

Not necessarily true. I didn't want to see Jess, because I'd see the disappointment in her eyes. I was a no-good sinner, and though Jess had always said she's help me, I wasn't sure anymore. I had just escaped from prison, with most of America searching for us. Why on Earth would she want to see me now?

Jess once said I had a terrible habit of putting myself down. On the first day she met me, she said she found me charming, but she knew I had insecurities. I don't know how, since no one else on this planet could see that I doubted myself a lot, always wondering if I deserved any of the nice things I got. That's what I loved about Jess. She had always been there for me – and I had let her down terribly. So many times. This had to be the worst thing I've ever done to her.

"Our photos are in the paper. They're probably all over the news," Sucre said.

"Yeah, and you didn't see that coming?" C-Note replied, not missing a beat. Ever the depressor, that's our C-Note. I ignored them as John started to laugh, standing and heading over to Lincoln. He had been quiet. Not entirely unusual of course, Linc was a man of few words, but even this was a bit much for him.

I took a seat beside him, swinging my legs over the edge of the step carelessly. He quickly folded up the newspaper in his hands, but I knew he had been reading about LJ. I had to admit I was feeling a lot better than I had in a while. I had a dress on, I had make-up! To a person on the outside, this was nothing spectacular. For me, this was incredible. I was sure I'd never tire of it after so long in those dull blue jumpsuits.

"Don't worry Lincoln, we'll get LJ," I smiled soothingly.

"Yeah, and how are we gonna do that Em?" he snapped harshly. "My kid's gonna end up in prison, just like me. I appreciate your optimism, but we need to be realistic."

"Emilie, come here," Michael called. I stood, frowning at Lincoln. We'd have to come up with a plan for LJ, and knowing Michael, he was already thinking of one. When I joined him, I knew exactly what was happening. It was time to say goodbye to the others.

I think I would miss John the most. Or maybe Sucre. I could definitely take a break from C-Note's cynical thinking. I hugged each one of them. C-Note said, "Watch yourself kid" as he hugged me, and I laughed. 'Kid'. It had been a while since he'd called me that. Sucre said something quickly in Spanish. When I gave him a confused look, he smiled and explained, "It means stick with the brothers, you understand? I love you man!" He squeezed me so tightly I saw stars for a few seconds. I briefly wondered how I would've said goodbye to Theodore. A quick slap would've done the job. Would I have hugged him? I don't know.

I would've gotten emotional saying goodbye to Tweener. Saying goodbye to John was hard enough. I had to get on my tippy-toes to wrap my hands around his neck.

"Don't cry over me now John," I said sarcastically, seeing as he wasn't good with his emotions. He laughed. "I love you Abruzzi, escaping prison with you was one Hell of a journey."

"I feel the same way about you kid," he muttered gruffly, ruffling my hair. I laughed. His wife must have to strangle him to get a little love. Of course, only Michael and Sucre hugged. The others did manly handshakes, not able to show their 'girly feelings' quite like I did.

Now all we had to do was find LJ, and then we could go to Panama. Though nothing could be that easy, could it?


	4. Flashes

**A/N: **_Thank you for the wonderful responses and everything! I appreciate it a lot :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four <strong>**– Flashes**

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><p>"<em>I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.<em>_"_  
><strong>- <strong>**William Shakespeare**

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><p>I had been fiddling with my annoyingly painful shoes when Michael told me we'd be going to a <em>courthouse<em>. Of all places for escaped convicts to go to, that seemed rather stupid. Lincoln ran his hands over his head, sighing as he tried to tell Michael everything about the courthouse. Suicide, that is exactly what this was. For LJ however, I was pretty willing. All three men – including LJ himself – had told me they felt like I was family.

There are certain things I'd die for, and family is one of them. I'd go back to prison if it meant freeing LJ. He was a kid, he deserved it more than me. I stood up and stretched, following after them as they headed towards a parking lot. It was situated minutes away from where we were.

We avoided looking directly at people. I was less afraid, since I thought my disguise was working wonders. Though I'll admit I did panic slightly when a man was staring. I can't figure out if he was realizing who I was, or if he was checking me out. The latter would've been better, as that wouldn't lead to us being carted off to Fox River again. When we found the car, Michael warned us not to turn the radio on. Lincoln quickly got to work finding out the times of the trial on the phone, and Michael sat in the car. I leaned against the bonnet.

There was a man watching us. He looked smart, with a suit and a briefcase swinging at his side. I smiled, hoping that I didn't look like a crazy escaped bandit. I must be failing horribly as he raised an eyebrow. The sound of tires squealing made me stand and look around nervously. We would always be looking over our shoulders.

The man left and the car started up a few minutes later.

"Three o' clock, hearing lasts a half hour."

Lincoln made it sound easy. "How do we get close to him?" Michael asked.

"Well, when I was locked up I had nothing to do but study the briefs." He hadn't wasted his time sitting around moping I realized as he continued giving us the details, which Michael absorbed like a sponge. I wondered if we could really get LJ out. Michael looked at me and smiled. He noticed my apprehensive look.

"We can do this. Afterwards, we can leave. We'll vanish. We'll be totally new people, Em, I promise. Nothing is going to stop us. You just have to trust me."

"Frankly, I'm sick of trusting convicts. You're lucky I love you, Michael."

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><p>We were waiting for Michael, while Lincoln was talking on the phone. He pretended to be Nick, though I had no clue who Nick was. His lawyer, I assumed. When Michael came back out, he held a brown bag in his hands. He handed them to me, and I put them on the ground.<p>

The car ride had been very quiet. I hated it, but Michael had firmly told Lincoln not to put the radio on. I stretched my legs the moment we stopped again, slamming the door behind me. Michael went in first, and I stood outside with Lincoln, leaning against the window. There was a gumball machine beside us, and the windows were littered with posters. All kinds of things, like lost pets and guitar lessons. I read them for a moment until I noticed a woman walking by with her dog.

Lincoln smiled and nodded at her. I kicked his leg. The idiot, she had noticed him, thinking he was checking her out. Which he probably was. That wasn't the point, the point was she had paused to take a serious look at him. Her dog sniffed at her, eager to keep walking, but she was frozen to one spot.

Every second felt like an hour as we waited for Michael.

"You think we can do this?" Lincoln asked quietly. "Get LJ?"

I was surprised he had asked me this. I think he just wanted reassurance from someone else, to stop his own doubts driving him nuts. I smiled. "Of course we can. Michael won't let you down Lincoln. We can get LJ."

He smiled, feeling a little better. Suddenly he opened the door to the hardware store and shoved me inside. "What the Hell Linc-…"

"Cops. Just act smooth."

Oh. _Ooh._

I tried to act 'smooth' as Lincoln had put it. A man came towards us, with the exact same smile on his face as the lady in the clothes shop had.

"How are we this fine day?"

I opened my mouth, but Lincoln got there first. "Great."

"Can I help you find anything?"

"No thanks, just want to take a look around," I said pleasantly.

I saw Michael before Lincoln, quickly gliding towards him. How could we not look suspicious?

"Hey," Michael smiled.

"We gotta go Mike," I frowned, and he glanced up with surprise.

"I just gotta pay for this and we can-…"

"_Now_, Michael," Lincoln grumbled.

"How are you today officer?"

Oh crap, we were screwed. The moment we heard that, we were gone. We ran out the back door as fast as bullets, trying to avoid the officer seeing us. We came out from an alley, and could hear the cop car already. There was no way we could get to the car. We'd have to walk to the Cook County Courthouse.

"It's too hot," Lincoln said.

"Good conversation starter," I noted.

He chuckled. "Sorry if I'm not good with words, like you," he muttered, wiping some sweat from his brow.

"You never were good with words," Michael sighed, but he grinned as Lincoln shoved him playfully.

"If this thing doesn't work out and you end up going back to Fox River, I ain't coming to getcha," Lincoln said. Whoa. Way to put a downer on the happy mood. Michael didn't take it seriously though. Or at least, I don't think he did. "I mean, you are the brains and I am the brute."

"What does that leave for me?"

"The one who'll mother us while we try to allude the authorities. And nag at us. Yes, you'll definitely nag," Linc smirked. I punched his arm, but it was like hitting a large tree trunk. I rubbed my hand, muttering insults. I do _not_ nag. I just wish they wouldn't be so reckless. Like eyeing up some woman walking her dog. Both of the brothers chuckled just as the courthouse came into view.

It looked huge, even from this side. We stared at it, taking in the grey looming building that separated us from LJ.

"Seriously Michael, you don't have to do this."

I assumed that because he hadn't said my name, I'd have to help anyway. Not that I minded. Most people didn't even take a second glance at me, so I was guessing my disguise was working.

They looked at each other. I sighed.

"I'll take that as a 'yes, we're doing this'."


	5. The Sinner

**A/N: **_My sincerest apologises for not updating soon, my bad! :) Please forgive me! :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – The Sinner<strong>

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><p>"<em>There will be no end to the troubles of states, or of humanity itself, till philosophers become kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands.<em>_"_  
><strong>- <strong>**Plato**

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><p>Holding up an agent hadn't exactly been on the agenda today. From this side of the elevator, the agent himself couldn't see me. Good. My disguise wouldn't be blown so quickly, which had been a plan of Michael's. But the Agent could hear me from here as he locked eyes with Michael. I had been in the middle of telling LJ to click the 'stop' button on the elevator. He looked at me with wide eyes as he complied with my request, barely taking his eyes off of me. I think he feared that if he blinked, we'd vanish and he'd be alone here with this agent.<p>

Everything had been going so well until the man spoke. We'd spray-painted a toy gun, hoping this man wouldn't call our bluff. We'd made it this far.

"Emilie Robins, I finally get to hear your voice. Agent Rose will be thrilled to hear from you. We've been having some trouble tracking you for a very long time, you've been the hardest escapee to find."

Though touched that I was apparently the hardest to track down, I froze anyway. Agent…Rose? I searched through my memories. Where did I hear that name before? I realized that he was talking about that cow who had visited me weeks and weeks ago in Fox Rivers. The cat-like lady who was clearly trying to threaten me when she visited. Drill some fear into me. It hadn't worked. Lincoln looked up at me, because he had seen that woman too. Rose was searching for me.

"Oh send her my love," I replied, laughing heartily. No point in sounding as if I was scared about it, because honestly I wasn't. I had Michael and Lincoln, and now LJ too, how could she possibly catch me alone? Or was that just wishful thinking? I could be in denial, convinced that I was lucky. If Rose had been having trouble tracking me down already, then I was on a lucky streak already.

"You might be seeing her sooner than you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael growled, taking LJ's hand.

The Agent pushed LJ against a wall, but when Lincoln threatened him with his 'gun', the man backed off a little, looking quite furious with how things were turning out for him. Something tells me the agent wanted to see me. He was smarter than we had given him credit for if he had been able to figure out what the Otis thing had meant, so he was probably able to guess that I had changed my hair and clothes. Of course, convicts would always try to change their appearance naturally, but it was easier for a woman to do it. I had longer hair, able to dye it and chop it however I liked. LJ handed his dad the Agent's gun at Michael's request. At least now we had something with actual bullets. I think the one Linc has just squirts water.

"LJ give me your hand," Lincoln commanded.

As Lincoln began pulling him up, he dropped the fake gun. It didn't make the noise that a loaded gun would've made, and the Agent made his move. He grabbed LJ by the waist, attempting to pull him back own. Michael yelled at him.

"Give yourself up and your kid can walk," the agent said, not letting go.

Tough decision on Lincoln's part, but we wouldn't give up. We wouldn't back down now.

"It's the only way!"

"Dad! Let me go!" LJ yelped as the alarm for the elevator went off. No, no, no! We had made it this far, things couldn't go so wrong. We were _so_ close. Lincoln was going red in the face from how anxious he was, how hard he was trying to pull his son up. All Michael and I could do was panic beside him and watch the struggle. When he finally did let go, LJ went crashing to the ground with the Agent.

Lincoln shut the door, looking ashamed for having to leave LJ behind. Michael pulled us up using the rope, and I was thankful that since we had escaped, I was getting more and more skilled at rope-climbing. I could make a bloody career out of it, join a circus, swing from dizzying heights on a rope all day long. Beats being an escaped convict, I bet. Imagine all the places I could travel to. We burst onto the roof, knowing the place was going to be swarming with more police in seconds as soon as the agent had gotten out of that elevator.

We were running as fast as we could onto the street beside the courthouse. Civilians stopped with their mouths hanging wide open, catching flies from the shock of seeing us running. I bet they'd have a lot to talk about now.

"Truck!" Linc yelled.

Let me tell you, hopping in was easy, dodging bullets was _not_. The bullets were denting the back of the rent-to-own truck. My heart was thudding as I leaned against the comfy leather seats, relaxing slightly. Michael looked at me.

"Who's Rose again?" He looked baffled, and adorable. What I would give to just hug and kiss him and forget all about the problems we had right now. _Gah, stop thinking of his cuteness while we trying to evade the authorities Emilie, focus!_

"An old acquaintance," I replied, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

"She visited Em in Fox Rivers, a while back. Did she forget to mention?" Lincoln chuckled drily, looking in the rear-view mirror. "She posed as a reporter, just like the woman who came to see me on the same day."

The truck fell silent after that.

I had no idea where Lincoln was going, and I didn't recognize the area. How strange we must've looked, the three of us cramped into this old dingy truck. I pushed my hair out of my face, trying to right myself after all the running and panting. LJ would be in serious trouble now, and after this he would be guarded even more.

I worried about Jess. Would Rose go to her, threaten her to see if I had contacted her yet? I was itching to call Jess. Apologize, beg her to forgive me for being a 'sinner' – Edna's words, not mine. I thought I was a good person. For the most part...Honestly I wasn't missing Edna much right now. The truck rolled to a stop near some houses. We could be easily spotted, so we took off without looking back as quickly as we could.

"We gotta move!" Michael shouted from in front of us.

As we turned a corner by the fences, I suddenly noticed that Lincoln wasn't keeping up. He was limping – oh no, please say he hadn't been shot or something! This was the worst thing possible. He could die from this, bleed out. We had no medical supplies if the bullet was lodged in there and everything would be slowed down…

I took a deep breath. Stop panicking. It didn't help anything. I helped him sit against the wall, rubbing his back as he winced in pain.

Michael came over, pulling gently on Lincoln's black pants to find the wound. It was pretty obvious. There was a small rip that he pulled back, revealing a very bloody mess beneath the tear in his pants. A bit of blood dripped onto my hand as I pulled it back to look into the mess and try to help Lincoln.

I shot Michael a worried look.

In the distance we could hear sirens, blaring and only getting louder. That noise, along with the sound of dogs barking, would haunt my dreams for years. Sighing, I patted Lincoln's shoulder again.

"What do we do now Michael?" I asked quietly, biting my lip to stop myself tearing my hair out. "Lincoln can't go on like this, and the police are already here." Stating the obvious, but it had to be said.

Michael pulled out a hanker-chief, using it as a bandage. It was the best thing we had right now. He looked torn as he tried to think carefully, mulling things over. We didn't have time for all of this, there was so much pressure.

Lincoln groaned in pain as Michael applied pressure to the wound, biting his lip and looking away. I'm glad I'm not very squeamish. The houses around us seemed so normal. None of them would think that in the alley way behind their homes lay three escaped convicts in deep trouble.

I put my hands on my head, squinting in the light. It felt horrible to put such pressure on Michael, but honestly he planned things out so perfectly that everyone always relied on him for a solution. He looked from Lincoln, back to me.

"I'm sorry Em," Michael sighed. "We need outside help, and there's only one person who can give it to us."

I had a queasy feeling in my stomach, just knowing from the guilty look in his eyes that whatever he would say was bad. _Very_ bad. I didn't even want to ask, but I had to. "W-Who?"

"Nika."

Great. I finally get to meet this Nika woman. Well that's just freakin' _dandy_.


	6. Nika

**A/N: **_I don't actually hate Nika. I thought she was…alright. ;) Maybe it's jealousy. Who knows? I doubt Emilie's gonna like her much though…:) Just a hunch. Didn't have time to edit! Oopsie ;)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Six – Nika<strong>

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><p>"<em>And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.<em>_"  
><em>**- ****Friedrich Nietzsche.**

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><p>When Nika opened her apartment door, her eyes widened in surprise. She clearly hadn't expected me. Can't say I was thrilled to see her, either. Lincoln was in bad shape as he breathed heavily down my neck. My mood was quickly spiraling downhill. The man I loved was returning to the woman he <em>married,<em> and here I was trying to be totally cool with it. Perhaps I could bond with Nika over some soda. I could use a drink right now. The moment Michael asked her for help, she turned pale.

"What are you doing here?"

"Social visit," I muttered sarcastically. Michael burst past her, leaving me to balance Lincoln. He had his arm around my shoulder, kindly trying not to crush me in his pain. Michael went into her kitchen, and Nika followed asking him what he was doing here. He barked orders at her, finding supplies to help Linc. I gently set him on the couch, careful to make sure his sore leg didn't touch against the leather.

"How are you holdin' up Linc?"

"Watching Nika give you the stink eye cheers me up just a little."

I slapped him gently on the side of the head, and he sniggered before he groaned in pain. I smirked. "Karma, dear Lincoln. Karma."

He truly was in some pretty bad pain.

"Painkillers, towels.." Michael listed off.

"Booze," Lincoln added. Nika looked at all three of us for a few seconds. She did as he asked, though I was busy staring at Lincoln's totally bloody leg. Michael did his best to roll up the leg of the pants without hurting him, but Lincoln moaned in pain anyway.

When Nika brought the pills, Lincoln swallowed them right away, without a drink to wash them down. Gross. Michael handed me a tissue, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I took it and applied pressure to Lincoln's bloody wound, and he leaned his head against the sofa, scrunching his eyes shut from the pain.

"Okay, take it off," Michael ordered.

I did as he asked, some alcohol running onto my hands as he poured it on Lincoln's leg.

"Michael you should not have come here," Nika babbled. "The police have been here asking questions…"

She caught my eye, quickly looking away. Eye-contact was something she couldn't take with me. Legally she was still married to Mike, wasn't she? Does that mean I'm a mistress or something? Great. Not only am I Emilie the Bandit, I'm also Emilie the Mistress.

"We didn't have a choice."

"You know I'm grateful but…"

"It wasn't part of our deal! I know! I'm sorry!"

Pssht. Don't be sorry. I can't help not liking Nika. It might be childish and rude, but I can't help my jealousy. Lincoln glanced at me, smirked a little and went back to rolling his own self-pity. But I'd let him off. The man has a bullet wound for God's sake.

"When I saw you on the News I was worried!"

Oh cry me a river Nika. _We're _the ones who escaped from prison, she has nothing to worry about. She didn't have to watch Seth commit suicide, she didn't have to put up with Theodore's disgusting touching or break out of Fox River. Or run around in these pumps. They hurt like the six shades of Hell. I frowned, trying to focus more on Lincoln than on this…this woman. See, I can stay civil.

Michael used duct tape to tie a towel around Lincoln's leg. It would be the best thing we had to stop the flow of the blood right now.

"I saw you all on the news last night," Nika repeated slowly, as if trying to absorb it herself.

"Oh, did I look nice?" I asked absently, raising an eyebrow.

Nika's eyes narrowed. "You've changed your hair since. The media became extra focused on you. The Modern Day 'Bonnie and Clyde', that's what they're calling you!"

"You like my hair?" I asked, smirking. She was getting irritated. Bonnie and Clyde. I can get used to that. Let's hope we have a happier ending though. "I mean, you're a brunette, but I like to think blondes have more fun."

"Now isn't the time-…" Lincoln started, trying to end our little bitch fight.

I interrupted him, "Though I know you must've had a fun time getting into America. Which sounds more fun? Breaking out of prison, or marrying a man to get a green card? Really, you and I should hang out more." I weighed the options in my hand, grinning at her. I get also get used to messing with Nika.

"See if you can find him some clean clothes. I gotta go find the car," Michael said, giving me a look that said 'Don't-fight-with-Nika'.

"No," Lincoln hissed, gripping his leg a little. "Forget the car, we can get another."

"I need the stuff in the car!" Michael snapped. "Everything we need to disappear is in that car!"

"I'll go with him," I suggested, though it was more of a demand. I wouldn't let him go alone. I stood up, ignoring both Nika and Lincoln's gaze, strolling to the door. Michael threw on a cap, following me out into the hallway.

We were quiet at first, quietly taking the elevator. To my surprise, he held my hand. I assumed we would have to stay stoically stay from each other in case he was recognized, but I can't say I was complaining.

It made it easier to imagine what our life would be like had we met _outside_ of jail. I imagined it like those cheesy magazines, with the man wearing a fancy sweater tied around his neck – not a prison jumpsuit – and I in an expensive dress. However, this life suited me just fine. Sometimes I can't decide which I'd rather have.

A boring, normal and happy life, or a life spent on the run with never a dull moment?

"I'm sorry Emilie."

"What for?" I asked, cocking my head to look at Michael. He squinted in the sunlight, looking adorable.

"For involving Nika and everything. I remember how mad you were when you found out I was married, I know, but I needed to save Lincoln. He was bleeding too heavily."

"I know that Michael. Nika and I will get on just fine."

He eyed me with an apprehensive look.

I laughed. "Don't look at me like that. I can handle it no problem. I'm Emilie Robins Michael, I don't give in to petty squabbles with women like Nika."

"Whatever you say," he shrugged, smiling. We turned the corner leading to the car.

Just our luck. The car was gone.


	7. Rose Red

**A/N: **_Thanks for all the reviews! :D Minor cursing, btw!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven - Rose Red<strong>

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><p>"<em>A faith is a necessity to a man. Woe to him who believes in nothing."<em>  
><strong>- <strong>**Victor Hugo.**

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><p>"The masterminds behind the escape are believed to be Michael Scofield and Emilie J. Robins, seen here in a mug-shot taken just days before incarceration. The pair are also believed to be evading the police as a trio along with Lincoln Burrows. We have with us today Richard Walters, who will explain to us why Emilie's case is so rare," a petite brunette reporter frowned into the camera. I helped in the plan, I wasn't the mastermind though. That was just Michael.<p>

The screen changed, showing a balding pale man whose dark eyes bore into the camera. He held a microphone to his mouth and smoothed out his blue suit jacket. "Emilie J. Robins is something of an American Dream type, Suzanne, so I believe that is why there is so much focus on her case."

I snorted, though I quickly stuck my head in a magazine to hide my face. A woman with her two kids had been staring at the TV with wide eyes when she heard me laughing, and I cursed myself for being so careless. I shouldn't of laughed, now she'll think I'm weird and keep staring until she realizes who I am.

Michael and I had split up. He went to find the car, and I would head back to Nika's. Yippee, can't wait to see _her_ again. Hey, don't judge me! I'm the jealous type sometimes. I can't help myself. We all have our flaws. I trust Michael of course. I just don't know if I trust Nika. I had about three dollars to my name, so on my way to Nika's I decided to stop by convenience store and buy myself a soda.

I had just gotten distracted by the little television in the corner of the room. My heart began thudding as soon as the lady took a step closer to me, but her eyes were thankfully on the screen as this Richard guy kept talking about me.

"Do you believe Robins is a threat to society?" the female reporter asked. Camera flashes back to Richard as he nods. My mouth fell open a little. Me? A threat? Please! They have Theodore Bagwell running around out there. He's like a cougar, and I'm a ladybird in comparison to how evil he can be.

Speaking of the devil, a mug-shot of Theodore himself flashed on the screen. I watched the body language of the woman beside me. It was refreshing to have new subjects to observe, because in prison I had gotten used to plain old fear and dominance. I smiled at her.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" she frowned, motioning towards the TV. "I'm afraid one of these cons will hurt my own kids."

I looked down at her kids. A pretty blonde girl around five, and a handsome ten year old boy playing with a hand-held games console. He seemed glued to it, while the girl was content with holding her mother's hand. I shrugged. "I'm sure they'll be caught soon."

Though I desperately hoped not. I wanted to be free, not locked back up. My disguise must be working. Or at least, I thought it was. She seemed more interesting in studying me. She glanced back at the screen, before her eyes became wide.

They had a photo of my mug-shot beside Theodore's on the television, and it had somehow made her realize that the woman in front of her was the convict in question. She looked at me, going sickly pale and pulling her kids away from me immediately.

"It's you!" she gasped. "Oh my God! Help! Somebody help!"

"Oh for crying out loud…" I muttered, dropping my magazine. She was screaming now, and people all over the store were panicking as soon as they realized, too. I made for the door, running. I almost slipped on the polished floors just in front of it, bursting out onto the street.

My heart was in my mouth the moment I saw a cop car across the road. Beside it was a black jeep with tinted windows. Oh God. Oh my God, crap. Think logically. Was it pure chance that they were across the street? The woman in the store had only just seen me, there was no way she could have called the cops in that time, and even if she had, they wouldn't be outside right now. That was just impossible. They must be here by chance.

The door of the tinted jeep swung open, and I knew the woman who stepped out of it. Even from here, I could see a man getting out of the other side. The Agent from the courthouse, the one who had taken LJ from us. And the woman?

Rose. From the prison. She was right there, across the street.

Suddenly someone grabbed me around the shoulders. It was a man, trying to be a hero. He had been in the store, hadn't he? He was bigger than me, a few inches taller. "Hey! We got her! We got Emilie Robins!" he screamed at the cops.

Rose turned her head. After a moment of utter shock, she began running towards us with the male agent hot on her heels. She was drawing a gun. How had everything gone so wrong? All I wanted was a soda, now I had been recognized in the bloody store! Rose looked so smug. I could punch her, if I wasn't being held.

I did the only thing I could do. I kicked at the man, hitting him right in his crown jewels. He doubled over in pain. That was a trick that had always come in handy in prison, being surrounded by males. The man crashed to the ground, and I had to make a break for it.

I heard shots ring out. They missed me, my adrenaline pumping as I ran for my life. I ran towards an alley, hiding behind a giant trash can. It would hide me, I knew it. Anyone running past wouldn't see me. Carefully, I edged around the large triangular dump, trying to see. Oh God.

Rose was right in front of the alley. She peered down, her gun raised in front of her.

"Emilie…come out, come out wherever you are and stop playing these games!" she whistled, letting out a breathless laugh. Geez, what a psychopath.

I held my breath, not moving an inch. Michael will kill me for being spotted. There goes my disguise. I'd have to dye my hair all over again. Perhaps a dark brown or a red colour? Oh why am I thinking of my hair when there's a federal agent searching for me in an alleyway?

She was edging her way into the alleyway carefully, being very cautious as if I'd jump out an attack her. She was right. Five more steps and she'd be in front of me. I could hit her. Take her by surprise. If I get the gun away from her, I'd be doing pretty well. I glanced around. There was a plank of wood beside me, which was very convenient, but would it do enough damage in time?

What if I hit her and the gun went off anyway? That would be the end of Emilie J. Robins. I didn't want that to happen. But I couldn't sit her. Now she was a mere three steps away. She'd see me, especially with blonde hair this bright. So I took the wood, gripping it in my hand. I didn't care about the few splinters it gave me. I worried about how surprisingly light it was.

Rose appeared in front of me, her head turned in the opposite direction. This was my only chance. I leapt up, using the wood to hit her temple. I only wanted to knock her out or something, not kill her. Down Rose went, crashing to the ground. Immediately I went for the gun, kicking it out of her reach.

"Shit," she cursed, raising her hand to grip her bloody temple. It was a nasty wound. I turned to run, but she was quicker than that. She grabbed my ankle, pulling me to the ground. Ouch, my knee made a painful sound against the concrete, as did my elbow. When I flexed them both, they only hurt a little, so I focused on Rose instead.

Her green eyes were dazed, a bit disorientated from the blow. She grabbed my wrist and twisted it, making me scream a little. Where was her partner? I ignored the pain in my wrist. I straddled her, punching her once. She got me back for it. She split my lip, and she cut a long mark above my eyebrow that reached my cheekbone. Warm, sticky blood oozed from the mark, running into my eyes. I ignored it, punching her anywhere I could.

Her eyes rolled back in her head for a minute, and that was the only thing that made me stop. I was panting, finding it difficult to get my breath back. My wrist hurt the most. I took a deep breath, not realizing I was shaking badly. I checked her pockets for any other kind of weapon. She had a pocketknife, which I took for myself. Good. I needed that.

I froze when she spoke. "How's…Jess?"

I gripped her neck, making her cough. The only reason Rose wasn't using her special federal agent training right now was because I had been lucky in hitting her on the side of the head. Pure luck, but I was grateful for it. But listening to her speak of Jess…that hurt me.

"You stay away from her!" I hissed. Blood filled my mouth from the wound on my lip, and it ran down my chin. I wiped it away, though it dripped down my arm. _Ouchie._

"I'll be visiting her real soon …unless you give…yourself up," she grinned.

My eyes widened. This was a threat. Was she bluffing? Would she really do something to Jess? Could she do that? I felt like slapping myself for even questioning it. Of course she could. Just look at what Bellick and the others had done. Geary had taken Charles' watch, Bellick had let John torture Michael…there was too much corruption.

"Rose!" a voice yelled. I looked up.

Her partner would make an appearance any second now.

"Mahone!" she screamed. Crap. I quickly jumped off of Rose, running once again. I ran from the alleyway. I made it to a park, panting. My lungs burned, but I had been through much worse than that. Mahone? That was the agent's name. I memorized it. My mouth was filling with blood again, which was so irritating.

"Are you alright ma'am?" a man asked, looking at me with concerned brown eyes. I nodded. If I opened my mouth he'd see the blood. He didn't look convinced, but I took off before he could do anything else.

I got to Nika's apartment, knocking three times on her door. I was still shaking, unable to calm down. At any moment I was convinced Rose would come running around the corner, some bandages on her head, guns blazing. Nika took her sweet time answering. I'd say she was equally convinced the Feds would be outside her apartment door.

God, my head hurt. I couldn't even remember exactly where Rose had hit me. Apparently, I was covered in my own blood or something, because Nika went pale when she saw me, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh Emilie, what happened to you?"

I could hear Lincoln's deep voice growling in the background, asking what had happened. Nika put a hand on my shoulder, leading me inside. When I opened my mouth, I coughed up some blood. God dang it, Rose had done some damage. Nika went to grab towels and stuff, while Lincoln surprisingly fussed over me too.

"What happened kid? Where's Michael?"

"Finding the car…" I murmured, wiping my chin of the blood. "You remember Rose?"

To my surprise, Nika actually helped me. She gave me a dark grey hoody, that was a little too big on me. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows and lay back on the couch, closing my eyes. She gently wiped a cloth on my face that was dripping with warm water. My dress wasn't too bloody however, so that was lucky, wasn't it? Look on the bright side. Not only was my dress okay, I hadn't been caught. Ha-ha, no prison for me just yet Rose, you psycho bitch.

"Yeah. She did this?" Lincoln growled.

I nodded. "She threatened Jess." My voice cracked. I wished it hadn't, especially in front of Nika. It sounded so hoarse and weak. I never wanted to sound weak in front of her. "Unless I give myself up. What do I do Lincoln?"

He looked at Nika instead of answering. I sighed. Now what do we do? I could only hope Michael was doing better than I was.


	8. Countdown

**A/N: **_I was just wondering if any of you would like to see a Season 3 :) Emilie would have to be in jail herself, so it would be an escape plan on her side too. What do you think? :) Let me know! Thanks for the reviews, too :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight <strong>**– Countdown**

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><p>"<em>Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.<em>_"  
><em>**- ****William Faulkner.**

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><p>My blood was making quite a mess on Nika's porcelain sink. I winced, hissing when the water stung the cut above my eyebrow. Rose had tried to do some damage, but I was looking way better than she had. With the blood wiped off, I realized I only really had a mark above my eyebrow and on my lip, with a thin red line beneath my left eye from when I had tackled her to the ground. I heard Nika tapping on the bathroom door.<p>

"Michael's back," she called out softly.

Nika and I were being quite civil. She helped me out, so I would help her in turn when she needed it. You scratch my back, I scratch yours kind of thing. I was a convicted criminal on the run, so I owed her a lot right now. I'll rue the day when she asks for something in return. Hopefully that day never comes.

Nika said my pictures were everywhere, on the TV and newspapers, though she didn't laugh when I asked if I looked good in them. She told me to start taking things seriously. If I did that, I'm sure I'd go insane! Slowly I came out of the bathroom, happy to see Michael. I could've ran right up to him and kissed him – which I'm sure Nika would hate – but I restrained myself.

"What happened?" he asked the moment he saw my marks. "Are you alright?"

I smiled at him, touched by his concern.. Michael always worries about others, putting them in front of himself. "I'm fine Mike."

"Did you get a car?" Lincoln asked.

"Yeah.. Come on."

Michael went downstairs to the car, while Nika and I helped Lincoln. He was starting to walk by himself, and by the time we made it out of the building, he had straightened up and was able to handle himself. That's Lincoln for you, always bouncing back.

"What's going on?" Linc asked.

Michael appeared from the behind the car. "We're not the only ones who want this car. Lincoln fell into the passenger seat, and I followed suit into the back. Let Nika have her moment with Michael. Lincoln smirked into the rear view mirror at me.

"Look who's jealous," he laughed.

"Shut up," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest childishly. "Besides, there's no competition. I could whoop her ass any day, just try me."

"I know you can Miss Over-Confident," he laughed sarcastically. "Even if you're not that strong or tall."

"Hey, I handled John Abruzzi and Theodore Bagwell all by myself, thank you very much."

"Good point."

I smirked smugly, even if Michael had a _small_ part in my survival. Lincoln kept on smirking. Michael got into the car. I must admit, I was glad he didn't hug or kiss Nika goodbye. This should be the last we ever see of her. I glanced out the window, seeing Nika give me a small smile. I instantly felt guilty for being a tad bit jealous. I smiled back as a thank you for everything she did for me.

"We're heading west, toward the money."

If we ever got that money, I was just going on a shopping spree. I was sick of convicts, sick of running, sick of having to change identities all the time. I would go buy a Gucci dress and just enjoy my life instead of worrying about the FBI finding me. Michael and Lincoln just wanted to lie in hammocks and drink shots all day, and that was fine with me. As long as we can relax, that's just perfect.

"We won't be the only ones," I murmured, mainly to myself. We believe T-Bag is alive, simply because the FBI are still looking for him. Had he died in that barn, they'd have found his body. The man with the shotgun would've found him, probably after having his breakfast and going to work as per usual. So odds are Theodore survived, just like he always did. I desperately hoped Tweener was alive for the same reason, that the media hadn't reported any deaths.

"One more stop though."

Both Lincoln and I looked at Michael with worried eyes. That's never good. "Where?"

"Do you trust me?" Michael smiled.

Dang it, you know it's bad when Michael uses the whole 'trust me' thing.

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><p>Inwardly, I was wondering what was happening with the other inmates. As we drove, I looked out the window at the normal civilians and wondered if Sucre had found Maricruz. Was he somewhere in Mexico, awaiting the birth of his baby? Slim hadn't made it over the wall, so he'd still be in Fox Rivers. What was Brad Bellick doing right now? Theodore…I didn't even want to think about what he was doing. Perhaps Benjamin and his family were having better luck. Abruzzi would always be looking for Fibonacci, though I hope he and his family were safe.<p>

The brothers were talking about prison life. How noisy it was, how everything was so planned out.

"'Cause me being strapped to the electric chair wasn't enough…" Lincoln smirked.

I sat up, finally taking interest in what they were talking about.

"There's something about this guy…the one in the elevator," Michael said.

"And Rose," I added. "She's a bitch, and she's threatened Jess. If I don't hand myself over, I don't know what she'll do."

"You aren't handing yourself over," Michael growled instantly.

The car grew tense as we stared each other down. He looked back at the road after a few minutes. I flopped back in my seat, enjoying the feeling of the wind in my hair. Lincoln had his window rolled down, enjoying it as well. It had been so hot out. Being in a dress felt so much better than being in a blue jumpsuit, let me tell you. My disguise had gone bust now. Rose knew what I looked like.

It seemed like hours had passed when Michael finally rolled to a stop. I pulled myself out of the car, stretching and glancing around. We were by a bridge, from what I could see. Metal railings, some trees surrounding us. Staying in one place for too long was stupid. Mahone and Rose were smart.

We started unscrewing the bolts of the railings. "You see 'em?"

"Nope," Lincoln replied. "You think they got the message?"

Mahone was much smarter than we gave him at first. If he managed to get beneath Michael's skin, then we most definitely had something to worry about. Rose freaked me out, but she had to resort to idle threats to get under my own skin. That's the only difference between her and Mahone. Rose didn't have any limits as far as I could tell. Did she have family? A husband? Friends, people who loved her.

Faking my own death was something I never thought I'd have to do when I was first convicted. I thought I would just spend my time in prison, and that was it. When we managed to get the railings off, I walked back to the car and began helping them to push it.

Lincoln snorted.

"What?" I asked, blowing a piece of hair from my fringe as I pushed.

"You need to work out more Em, seriously," he laughed. Michael laughed too. I rolled my eyes, finding it hard to keep a serious face myself.

"Excuse me for not lifting weights as I evade the authority," I muttered, pushing harder.

"Alright, stop," Michael ordered. We did as he asked, and he went to the trunk. I stayed at the front of the car, waiting for him to tell me when to start pushing again. It was too hot for this stuff. He pulled out a bag filled with blood. He found a long branch to push against the pedal. Lincoln and I watched, knowing that any minute now we could be caught. `

He turned on the radio, took out the phone and flipped it shut. "One more thing. When I hit scan, we have about thirty seconds before it blows up. You ready?"

That made the adrenaline start pumping, and e watched the car fly over the side of the bridge. I covered my ears, running alongside Michael and Lincoln with a smile, waiting for the blow…and nothing happened. Oh great, something had gone wrong.

"Wait, the music isn't changing," Michael panted. "We need that explosion."

The sound of sirens came to us suddenly, the one sound I truly hated the most. Damn.

"He's here," Michael said. I hoped Rose was in a hospital somewhere. It was turning into a hero versus villain kind of thing – though I'm not sure if I'm the good or bad guy – where she was my nemesis. We had to walk down the hill beside the bridge to get to the car when Michael revealed we'd have to do it ourselves. I could run pretty fast. Make it to the car, click something, run. Easy peasy, right?

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Michael offered. _Oh, I love that game._

"No, it's my turn Mike," Lincoln said, walking towards the car.

"It's okay Mike," I whispered nervously. He smiled at me, breathing heavily. Neither of us really knew if that was true. We watched Lincoln crawl into the car. My heart was thudding. The sirens were getting louder, giving me flashbacks of the night we ran from Fox Rivers.

We were running out of time.


	9. Adrenaline

**A/N:**_Thank you for all the kind reviews, alerts and favourites! :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine – Adrenaline<strong>

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><p>"<em>Blinding ignorance does mislead us. O! Wretched mortals, open your eyes!<em>_"  
><em>**- ****Leonardo da Vinci.**

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><p>Guess who we were meeting up with again? Yes, you guessed it. Nika. With my hands on my hips, I watched her silver car approach us. I hadn't expected to see her again. I felt like crap, too, burning in the sun and feeling worn out. I could sleep for a century if they'd let me. Lincoln glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a small smirk playing on his lips. Only Michael seemed to think Nika and I were now friends.<p>

When her car rolled to a stop, Michael smiled. "Looks like I owe you another one."

Ugh, _men._ I threw my hands up in annoyance.

She wore a pink tracksuit, handing over the keys to him. "Okay."

_Now give him the keys so I never have to see you again, Nika_. I wish I could have said that. However, that would be seen as rude or something. Plus she was doing us some big favors. In return, we would send her ten thousand dollars to make up for it. Sounds pretty sweet to me.

"We should get moving, the next town is a couple of miles from here."

"That's fine. I can get a bus from there."

I took a seat beside Nika, happy to be sitting down for a little while. I bet I had lost a stone from all this running around, avoiding capture. I'd have some pretty toned thighs and everything. I leaned my head back against the seat and sighed.

"Mexico huh?" Nika asked, looking directly at me. Michael's eyes flashed to meet mine in the rearview mirror, telling me to be discreet. If the FBI found out she was involved somehow, we don't know how long it would take for her to crack and reveal where we were if she was interrogated. "Speak Spanish?"

I shrugged. "A little. More than those two for sure. Sucre used to teach me some on the days when we were bored in Fox Rivers. It's a lot of fun."

I noticed Lincoln looking in the mirror, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I glanced back, seeing a car getting closer and closer. That didn't look as official as an FBI car, no tinted windows or men in black. In fact, I couldn't see the faces yet. Nika saw me looking, glancing out with worry. She didn't realize she was gripping the leather seats, twisting to her side with her upper lip quivering in nervousness. Even now, I still love body language. So many things can be given away easily.

"Hold on, hold on!" Michael and Lincoln yelled at the same time.

I braced myself, even though the impact still hurt like Hell. My head almost bumped again Lincoln's seat, but I managed to right myself.

"Michael!"

"It's okay Emilie, don't panic!" he roared back. "Who is it?"

I caught eyes with the one man I never thought I'd see him again. He was smirking at me. Brad Bellick. Oh fantastic. He wasn't looking too spiffy to be honest. He needed a decent shave and a shower. Did Brad really think he could drag us back to Fox Rivers? He must want something. To be a hero, be on the news…No. Money had to be involved. There must be a reward for catching us. He had three of the most wanted from the Fox River group right here beside him, he must feel like he's won the jackpot!

"Bellick," I gasped as he rammed the car again. No, not him. The man beside him. Geary?

Nika gripped my hand, and I squeezed hers back to give her some reassurance. She must be utterly terrified. They rammed us again, almost sending us into the field beside us. It was a complete mess. I could barely hear what Michael was yelling to Linc. The car shook and vibrated with each bump, knocking us out of control. It felt like we were in Grand Theft Auto or something. Nika was shrieking beside me, gripping my hand so tightly I thought she'd break my bones.

Fortunately, luck was on our side. A giant truck managed to stop Bellick. The moment it vanished however, he was back on our side, like a vulture. Grinning at me from his window. He had it out for me specifically, though don't ask me why. He was a crazy guy. Geary drove like a demon too, smirking away at us with wild eyes.

They must be high or something to think that ramming our car was a good idea.

"Look out!"

"Hold on!"

Before I could even understand that fully, we were driven off the road. The car bumped up and down. My head bashed against the window, reopening the wounds from Rose. It throbbed and stung. I screamed from the sudden pain, letting go of Nika's hand to clutch my head.

"Emilie hold on!" Michael yelled.

Easier said than done. It seemed to take forever before the car finally hit a tree and came to a stop. I swear there were stars floating in front of me when I finally came to. My eyes drifted to check on the others. Lincoln was moving quickly. Michael was a blur, as was Nika. I closed my eyes for a just a minute, feeling the warm blood oozing from my forehead.

My door opened, and two arms hauled me out. A shot rang out, and I realized it was Bellick holding me. Just like old times, eh?

"Don't move, I gotcha Robins!"

Michael spun around instantly, eyes wide when he heard that Bellick had grabbed me. He raised his hands instantly in self defense, approaching us slowly, step by step. Nika pulled herself from the car, and Lincoln – which I found quite sweet – was edging towards us too, clearly looking worried about me. Bellick's grip was tighter and rougher than I was used to.

My arm throbbed, and I wiped the blood from my face. The pain would dull in a little while, hopefully. Brad ripped something from his shirt, and moments later he wrapped the material around my wrists like a handcuff. The knot was so, so painfully tight. When I tugged on it, expecting to be able to untie it myself – it was just ripped from his shirt, after all – I was surprised to see it didn't work.

"I been lookin' for you all over Sweet-pea," Brad chuckled. Then he did something totally unexpected. He pinched my ass!

I shrieked, instantly jumping away from him. Michael roared at Bellick straight away, coming to my defense, but the gun Brad held quickly stopped him in his trucks. How degrading, having a man like Brad pinch your ass. I growled at him, wishing I could hit him myself, but unfortunately these 'cuffs' around my wrists were actually stronger than I anticipated.

"You little-…" I snarled.

"Hush, sweetheart, the adults are talkin' now," he grinned.

I would get my revenge on this man someday. "Untie me. This is ridiculous."

"Nah-uh little Lady." Stupid-ass prison nickname coming back to haunt me. "These two over here won't run if I have you right by my side. Ain't that right fellas?"

Lincoln and Michael glowered at him, looking fit to kill. Nika could run if she wanted, but she'd get a bullet in the back for her troubles. Lincoln looked at Bellick with a lot of worry and hate in his eyes. "No need for anyone to get hurt, Boss."

"Boss?" Bellick repeated bitterly. "Oh there's no need for formalities anymore Sink, no longer an employee of the state thanks to you." He tugged on my cuffs even tighter. This knot was impossible to undo. I saw Michael taking a hesitant step forward to help me, only to be stopped by Geary. "I heard about your little treasure hunt a' yours. Westmoreland had a stash. Get in the car. We're going to Utah!"

He didn't trust me enough to let me walk with the boys or Nika. Just had to stagger alongside him. He was smiling all the way there, gun in hand. Suddenly he whistled and laughed loudly, throwing an arm around my shoulder. Ew, he stank. It was hard to support his weight, too. We made to a car, and he shoved me into the back next to Michael.

"How have you been Emilie?" he snorted when he sat into the passenger's seat.

"Brilliant until you showed up, you pig."

"Now, now, let's be civil. We're gonna be together for a long time Lady. You and Pretty, huh? Thinkin' you can just run away into the sunset and forget everything?"

"Keep your mouth shut Bellick," Michael growled.

Bellick growled right back and pointed his gun at Michael. "Hush, Pretty. I ain't finished talkin' with her. Ain't that right?"

I ignored all his attempts at stupid, mindless conversation. Michael was squeezed in beside me. He tried to undo the knot, eventually succeeding. Why Bellick chose me of all people to tie up was a mystery. I was strong, sure, but I wouldn't be stupid enough to go against two guys both holding loaded guns.

We had to come up with something fast. No way was I handing money over to Brad Bellick. Over my dead body.


	10. El Desperado

**Chapter Ten – El Desperado**

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><p>"<em>'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.<em>_"_  
><strong>- <strong>**William Shakespeare.**

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><p>The two bounty hunters had tracked us down faster than the FBI had, and they were damn proud about it. Yet here we were, like sitting ducks, at the side of the road. A flat tire was the one thing that separated Bellick and Geary from their rewards, and they were already bickering like an old married couple about it. In the end, it seemed like Bellick still wore the pants in this relationship. Geary would have to walk ten miles to get another flat tire. I wondered why they didn't just call the FBI to come to <em>us<em> instead. They'd still get their reward, wouldn't they? Or did they have to turn up at a specific place with us in tow? Better not suggest calling the FBI. Brad probably didn't have a cell phone either.

Michael helped pull me from the car, giving me a reassuring pat on the back as if to say, 'We'll take care of these idiotic buffoons soon enough'. I sure hoped so. Nika was in a pissy mood, which just irritated me. She would get a few years for this, sure, but she'd get out eventually. The rest of us – Michael, Lincoln and I – would never see the outside of a prison again should they catch us. Bellick herded us like sheep into the woods. I didn't recognize the place, nor did I know where he planned on taking us.

Off Geary walked in the opposite direction with a scowl on his pudgy face. In my head, I replayed the night we escaped from Fox Rivers, leaving Brad down in the pipes. How I wished they had never found him. Sighing, I walked alongside Michael, Nika and Lincoln in front, knowing Bellick wasn't taking his eyes off us. I was disgusted to see him staring at my bottom as I walked. Pervert. I'd call him a pig, but that would an insult to the poor animal.

"I can't believe I trusted you," Nika hissed from in front of us.

I rolled my eyes. "You think Michael can predict the future? How was he supposed to know this would happen?"

"_I'm_ the one that will lose everything here, I'm going to be deported!"

I snorted. "Yeah Nika, because the minute they see me they'll let me off scot free and I can spend my days lying in a hammock in Fiji." I didn't say Panama. Not with that bastard walking behind us. She glared back at me. I ignored it. There were more important things to think about. Like getting away from Bellick. We'd done it before, we could do again.

Though Nika's hate could work to our advantage. Slowly the plan formed in my head, and Michael would be thinking about the exact same thing. Nika – as much as I hated to admit it – was a very attractive young woman, and Bellick would just love to mess around with her. I would never lower myself enough to actually try to seduce Bellick – my stomach is twisting just thinking about it. But Nika might. That's good enough for me. The next time she looked at me, I gave her a wink. Normally that was a signal I used with Michael and Lincoln when one of us had come up with something, but Nika just looked bewildered. Of course she would think I was just some weirdo with a split personality, who liked her one minute and jumped down her throat the next.

"For all that aggravation I hope you get to hit that a few times Scofield," Bellick sniggered behind us. "You got Nika first, and now you have Emilie here. You're a lucky man. Bet you ain't happy about it though, are you Lady?"

"Jealous you don't get any at all Bellick?" I laughed.

His eyes narrowed. Michael had a small smirk on his face, even in the circumstances.

"We're gonna wait it out in that shack."

Even at a crazy time like this, I worried about spiders. I hate spiders. Even thinking about them makes me imagine them crawling all over me. I shivered, and Michael looked over at me with a smile. "Spiders?"

I blinked with surprise. "Dang it, how did you know?"

"In Fox River when we were trying to break out, you told me of your fear of spiders. When we found one in the break room you almost screamed the place down, remember?"

I was touched he even remembered something like that, because I could barely recall it. It was true, I had almost screamed like a banshee. I'm glad that Theodore hadn't been there at the time, otherwise he would've used that against me. Michael's memory was pretty good. That was sweet of him.

* * *

><p>The plan had been fully formed. Nika would seduce Bellick. I'd rather her than me, to be honest. However, Michael and Lincoln were starting to have their only little argument. We were tied to the pipes against a wall, me stuck between them and itching to get away from here. Someday, someone would write a book about us. And they better make me look good in it. I bloody well deserved it after all this crap I'm going through.<p>

Then there was Rose. Agent Rose, that snotty little idiot who would just love to see me all tied up like this. I hope I broke her nose when we had that fight in the alley. Sure, I'm not as strong as Lincoln, or even Michael, but I'm sure I did some damage.

"Stop stressing it won't do you any good," Michael told Lincoln in a flat voice. My eyes drifted to Lincoln. His tugging was quite irritating. Nika was with Bellick, and I didn't even want to _think_ about what she was doing with him right now. I suppressed a shudder.

"Maybe you ought-a start stressing before they put a bullet in our head."

Michael sighed.

Bellick had tied me using that same strip of material from his shirt, which was surprisingly strong.

"Personally, I think this is a great time to play that game, 'I Spy'," I chirped, attempting to lighten the mood.

Didn't help much. Lincoln just kept tugging and pulling. Plus, there wasn't much to 'spy' around this room. It had some cobwebs in the corner that I eyed warily. I bet a bunch of spider babies were about to be born, and they'd coming crawling out, before making there way over to me. Okay, I'm dramatic, but I can't help my fear of spiders. They're just so…_ew_.

"They need us," Michael said with confidence. "They need us to get that money."

I groaned. "Nika better come through for us."

"Well if she doesn't we always have you as a second option," Lincoln said seriously.

Both Michael and I looked at him with shocked expressions, before he began chuckling. I relaxed instantly. Even Michael laughed at the image of _me_ seducing a man like _Bellick_. Gross. In my opinion, I could do much better. I stretched as best I could. I was getting a dead leg from sitting here. Pins and needles. It was beginning to annoy me.

The door creaked as it opened. Michael caught my eye, and he looked worried. Uh-oh. That's never, ever a good sign. Bellick entered behind Nika. She didn't look happy. Oh this was all going to Hell. We were screwed! I'm stuck in a shack with my least favourite ex-C.O in the world.

"You guys need to use the can, hold it," Bellick said. He nudged my foot. "What about you Em? Need to pee? I can help you, you know. Or you Nika. Need to tinkle?"

I rolled my eyes. Sleaze-ball. I was lucky I didn't actually need to go. I'd rather soil myself than let Bellick anywhere near me. I shifted from my position, I felt a pinch in my side, where my pocket was. Oh my God. Finally! Something good had happened! I still had the pocketknife! The one I took from Rose.

From all my research on body language, I managed not to let my surprise and happiness show. Something had gone right for once! Bellick didn't notice a thing, but I purposely shoved against Michael to get his attention. Hallelujah, Rose had actually done some good in my life. Bellick was too busy tying up Nika to notice.

I nodded towards my pocket, mouthing the word 'Knife'. A smile broke out onto his face. A Plan B was quickly being formed.

* * *

><p>"Bellick!" Nika yelled. He walked in with a scowl.<p>

"What's wrong sweet-pea?"

"I need to use the toilet," she muttered bitterly. He complied with a smile, pulling her up and dragging her into the next room. Lincoln leaned his head against the wall with a sigh, growling softly under his breath and cursing.

"We're screwed," he whispered.

"Au contraire!" I smiled. "Rose has actually helped me out for once!"

"What do you mean?" Lincoln asked, sitting up and looking me in the eye.

"Do you remember when I came back to Nika's covered in all that blood?" I said, shifting so Michael could reach my pocket. He immediately began trying to grab the pocketknife. The stupid 'cuffs' were burning me as I tried to make it easier for him to grab them. This wasn't easy at all.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Rose had a pocketknife on her. I took it, thinking I would need it later and…" I trailed off, letting him put two and two together.

Lincoln grinned, he was so happy. "You genius Emilie! I could kiss you right now!"

"Ah, I'm sitting right here," Michael muttered, pretending to be annoyed. I heard the pocketknife fall to the ground, and we held our breath. Had Bellick heard it? No. He would be too engrossed in his lap dance. Well, at least we hoped as much. Michael had some trouble trying to pick the knife back up.

When he did, he began cutting me out. It was harder than it seemed, because he couldn't see what he was doing. I let out a gasp when the knife cut my wrist. Not too deep of course, but it still stung badly.

"Shit, Emilie I'm sorry!" Michael apologized. Poor Michael. He could never stand the idea of hurting another person, no matter how small the wound.

"Forget it Michael, just keep going," I said, laughing breathlessly. That actually hurt, but we had more important things. I knew straight away when the 'cuffs' had been cut. The wound was longer than I had previously thought.

"I'm sorry," Michael repeated, regret in his eyes as if he had actually meant to do it.

"Hey, I told you to forget about it. At least I didn't have to cut my entire hand off like a certain Bagwell we know," I joked, taking the pocketknife from Michael.

"Okay, you're going to cut Lincoln loose. When you do, stand by the door. Bellick will tie Nika up before he goes after you."

"How can you be so sure Mike?" Lincoln asked.

"Bellick isn't stupid. He's been a C.O for years. The first thing they learn is that if a riot is happening in the prison, they have to lock up the rest of the prisoners before they do anything else. He's too well trained to break that habit."

Though I heard the worry in Michael's voice. I did as he asked though, letting Lincoln go before taking my place by the door. He wouldn't see me here.

"When he comes in, and ties Nika up, distract him," Michael instructed. "Lincoln, when Emilie distracts him and he has his back turned, you know what to do."

Michael was the brains, Lincoln the brute. What did that make me? El Desperado, perhaps?

Nika entered. Bellick followed. "Thought you could trick me…Shit! Where is Emilie? Where is she!"

Just like Michael predicted, he shoved Nika to the floor and began tying her up. The moment he finished, I stood forward. "Bellick!"

He turned to me instantly, a smirk on his face. "You should-a run when you had the chance girl." He felt for his gun, realizing Nika had taken it, his eyes turning dark and cold. "You bitch…"

Lincoln grabbed him by the throat. "Fooled you."


	11. Betrayals

**A/N: **_Thank you for all the reviews and alerts etc, etc ;D Haha, I'm so glad people like Emilie. Sorry it's short, I didn't have much time! :)  
><em>

*****WARNING: Curses ;D *****

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven – Betrayals.<br>**

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><p>"<em>A person, who no matter how desperate the situation, gives others hope, is a true leader."<em>_  
><em>**- ****Daisaku Ikeda.**

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><p>Leaving Geary and Bellick to rot was surprisingly simple. Just walk away, and don't look back. Geary had had the shock of his life when he returned and found us totally free. Good times. Walking back to the car didn't take much time. We knew where to find it. Or rather, Michael and Lincoln did. I had no clue where I was going, gingerly stepping over branches and singing to myself.<p>

"We beat Bellick, oh yeah!" I sang, not caring that I was out of tune. Nika watched me, not looking too happy. Michael was smiling at me, laughing when I did a twirl. Lincoln couldn't understand how I could be so optimistic. Honestly, we had some reasons to smile. We weren't being handed over for a ransom for one thing. The two men I definitely never wanted to see again were stuck back in some shack. Yes, things were finally looking up.

Except, my worry for Jess was growing by the minute. If I didn't hand myself over, Rose would go through with whatever torture she had planned out. Jess didn't deserve that. She went out of her way to help me when I was younger. And how do I repay her? Michael knew something was up with me, and he held back from the others, so it was just me and him walking side by side. He could read me like a book sometimes. He even took my hand, frowning slightly.

"What're you thinking about?"

"Rose. Jess," I shrugged. No point lying to him. The man is a genius. He'd figure it out eventually. He shot me a warning glance. "Oh come on Michael! If it were the other way round and they had Lincoln, and the only way you could save him was by turning yourself in, would you do it?"

He took some time to think about it. "I…I don't know Em. But I'm not going to let you turn yourself in like that. Rose is bluffing."

We both somehow knew that wasn't entirely true. Rose didn't seem like a bluffer. She could get away with it too, with this 'Company' behind her. They'd cover it all up, wouldn't they? I sighed and continued my singing to myself, a little quieter. We reached the car. _This_ was where we'd finally go back to being the Three Musketeers, and Nika would…I don't know, run off into the sunset by herself?

"At least let us take you into town," Michael insisted.

"No, if I'm seen with you it's a lot of trouble for me," Nika replied.

Once again, I looked at Lincoln, giving him a dry smile. He stared down at me, just itching to make some joke about my jealousy. He opened his mouth, and I instantly put one finger up to silence him. "Ah! Don't you _dare_ say a word!" He chuckled and moved my hand away.

"I was just gonna say you looked very pretty today Emilie," he smirked, trying to sound innocent.

I rolled my eyes, seeing through his sarcasm and lies. "Bullshit. You were going to make fun of me again."

He smiled and ruffled my hair, which irritated me. This look took time, you can't rush this perfection. Sighing, I tried to fix my hair again. Nika and Michael were still murmuring amongst themselves. Then they hugged. Yes, I admit, a rush of jealousy ran through me. I'll admit I'm the possessive type, though so is Michael. I know he is. Lincoln gave my shoulder a little shove. I rolled my eyes again.

Nika hugged all of us, even me. She paused, before whispering in my ear. "You don't know how lucky you are that Michael loves you." That tone sounded bitter, and I frowned.

Lincoln and Michael couldn't have heard that. Suddenly she pulled a gun on me, pointing it directly at my heart. Lincoln and Michael lurched forward in shock as I raised my hands in self defence. Now see, I _knew _Nika was a crazy bitch. Known it all along.

"Well this was to be expected," I murmured.

"Shut up," Nika growled.

"I said it all along. Just a matter of time," I continued, ignoring her entirely.

"Emilie, stop it," Michael hissed. He was looking at Nika with furious, intense eyes.

Lincoln nodded in agreement, and watched as Nika turned to Michael, her tone broken. So I shut my mouth.

"You used me Michael. You had Emilie all along!"

"Hey, I was in prison, he didn't plan on meeting me-…"

"Emilie, shut up!" Nika screamed at me, turning the gun on me again. "I loved you Michael….I really did. You used me."

"That's not true," Michael said. His eyes darted to meet mine, before he looked back at Nika. She looked so upset and desperate. "You know it isn't…"

"I deserve more than being the girl you go to when you need something," she cried.

"You really think you're gonna find the money in Utah?" Lincoln asked. I looked at him. How had things changed so quickly? Only moments ago this woman was hugging me, now she's pointing a gun at me. My life was _so_ dramatic sometimes. I bet those TV dramas had nothing on me.

"I don't care about the money in Utah!" Nika said. "I don't want any more crime."

Yeah, 'cause pointing a gun at us and threatening us was Angelic.

"I turn you in I get two hundred thousand dollars," she whimpered desperately. Well. Look at the bright side, I could save Jess. Always be the optimist, it could save your life. "Legal money." Could we rat on her too, just out of spite? Would she still get the money when they found out she doesn't have the right to be in this country anymore?

She marched forward to the car and grabbed the phone. We watched her, wary of the madwoman.

"Nika…" Michael trailed off, edging closer to her.

"Don't come any closer or I'll shoot you," she cried.

"No you won't."

We all looked at Lincoln in surprise. I suddenly realized the gun wasn't loaded when he held up the ammo she needed. Nika looked defeated. Triumphantly Lincoln took the gun and phone off her, pushing her gently away from him. She was crying. I lost my annoyance with her, instantly feeling sorry for her. I doubt she wanted my pity though.

"Sorry Nika," I muttered, feeling bad for the girl.

Lincoln made his way to the car, and after one final glance at Nika – who looked utterly broken and lost – Michael and I followed him. It was hard to look her in the eye at all really. Michael closed the door behind me, before getting into the passenger seat himself. Leaving her behind was surprisingly painful, just watching vanish from the horizon.

Bye, bye Nika…


	12. Map 1213

**A/N: **_Thanks for the reviews and alerts ;)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve – <strong>**Map 1213**

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><p>"<em>To love abundantly is to live abundantly, and to love forever is to live forever."<em>_  
><em>**- ****Henry Drummond.**

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><p>Tears rolled down my cheeks, having heard some terrible news. John Abruzzi was dead. We had only just heard about it now on the radio, how he was shot at a motel somewhere. One down. That meant they had more time to focus on us now. I sniveled, earning a worried glance in the rearview mirror from Michael. I gave him a weak, weary smile. John had kids. He had a wife. He wasn't a bad guy, deep down. I wouldn't say he was a natural softie or anything, because he had his moments, but in his eyes, the end justified the means.<p>

Now he was dead.

I wiped the back of my hand against my nose, irritated that we couldn't stop for tissues or a drink. We were driving in what felt like the middle of nowhere. Of course, one of us had to be caught eventually. It didn't surprise me that Theodore was still alive, roaming somewhere. Or at least, I believe he's alive. They told everyone about John's death, why not Theodore's? And T-Bag was a natural survivor. For criminals like us, there are no such things as morals. Only survival. I was learning that rather quickly.

The radio hadn't reported any other deaths. I could only hope Tweener was okay, wherever he was. Safe. I thought of his swagger, his kindness, his innocence. More tears burned at my eyes, and I snivelled again, my heart aching for both John and Tweener.

"Cheer up kid," Lincoln grunted, preferring not to look into my eyes. Crying women were not his strong point. When we reached Salt Lake City, I knew he was glad to get out of the car and not have to deal with it anymore. I chuckled despite myself and gave his shoulder a light punch – it felt like hitting a tree trunk he was so strong – to which he frowned. "Sorry, I know I should be more sensitive, but I'm not used to seeing you sad. You're always happy."

I rolled my eyes, suddenly cheering up when Michael put an arm around my shoulder and smiled. Our happy mood, however, was slowly deflating as we realized finding this Double K ranch would be more difficult than we first anticipated. Lincoln even asked an old man if he knew, but he didn't, and he had been here all of his life.

I stretched tiredly. Being in the car for so long had made me feel lazy.

"Looks like Westmoreland spent his last moments blowing smoke up your ass," Lincoln frowned, his sunglasses glinted in the sunlight.

"Of course, cynical and depressing and pessimistic as always, Linc," I sighed.

"Realistic," he countered straight away.

Out of all of us, it was no surprise Michael came up with the next move. Going right into a heavily guarded municipal building. Bloody fantastic. I ran my hands through my hair, looking at the large, looming grey building. It looked a lot like the courthouse we'd been in before, and that hadn't ended well.

"We can all agree this is a ridiculous idea, and we could be caught, right?" I murmured, watching guards walk into the building, one drinking a cup of coffee from a Starbucks, I guess. Couldn't really see the logo, and I didn't care much either.

The brothers nodded beside me. "Yup," they chorused.

"Alright then. Let's go."

We walked in a row, eyes never leaving the guards surrounding the building. I walked with confidence, strutting my stuff. People rarely gave me a second glance if I walked like this, but if I was acting all shady and slouched, eyes cast on the ground, of course they'd think there was something up.

My heart was thumping though, especially when we had to go through some metal detectors, which was a truly nerve-wracking experience. I went through, and the young looking man eyed me up and down. He was younger than I expected, but whatever.

"Clear," he called out.

Michael followed closely behind, when the buzzer went off. My heart was in my throat from the panic. I had to wait with Lincoln while Michael went back to try again, searching his pockets for whatever set it off.

"You wearin' a watch?" the guard asked him.

Guards always symbolized utter danger for me. I know that they were supposed to protect people – it was their job – but I hadn't met a guard I could really trust. Maybe Bob back in Fox Rivers, but the poor guy had been killed before we could see if he was truly trustworthy.

"Uh, yeah," Michael replied.

My eyes wandered to meet Lincoln's. He was as worried as I was, but he's better at hiding it. I wear my heart on my sleeve sometimes. For someone who likes body language so much, I sure needed to take some lessons on how to behave when it comes to Michael. He makes my emotions go haywire sometimes. He handed over the watch and wished the man a nice day.

"You just always have to be a Drama Queen, don't you Mike," I joked nervously when he was finally allowed to walk alongside us. "Always have to give me a heart attack and make me worry."

He chuckled and held my hand, a slightly risky move. Were the guards on the lookout for couples like us? I let my long hair cover my face, though I had to make sure I still looked confident. So far so good. Until a man kept walking past us, peering in curiously. He was beginning to get suspicious. Michael searched through a large book, searching for the Double K ranch. A page had been torn out!

"Just our luck," I muttered bitterly. "We're too late."

As we walked through the hallways to get outside again, Michael voiced the exact same theory. Someone – probably one of our own boys from Fox River – had gotten there before we had. We have to figure out our next move. Michael is quite the strategist, and I was learning a lot from him. Low and behold, guess who we see walking down the street?

None other than Theodore Bagwell.

In a flash, I was running down the steps. I'm admittedly faster than the other two – something I'm rather proud of – reaching him easily. I appeared in front of him, and I saw the surprise in his face. His hand was bandaged, and I was almost nervous to look at it. A small bit of guilt nagged at me. We had left him to die. Then again, Theodore was no saint.

"Well looky here," he whistled, before picking up a piece of my hair. "Suits you, sweet thang."

"You have the page we need, Theodore."

"_We_," he repeated. "And here I was hopin' you and I could run off into the sunset together. Should-a known the brothers would be right behind you."

"We always are," Michael said, coming up behind Theodore, who rolled his eyes in annoyance before being grabbed roughly by Lincoln. He had him in some kind of headlock, pushing him towards our car, away from the guards' view. Theodore's eyes met mine, and I knew he was plotting things out on the inside.

Lincoln threw him onto the bonnet. "How the _hell_ are you still breathing?"

"What the Hell did you do to your hand?" Michael whistled, a small smile on his face. Surprisingly sadistic for Michael.

As he said it, Lincoln took hold of Theodore's bad hand. Theodore let out a strangled whimper. "I recently had some work done." Trust him to be making jokes at a time like this. His eyes darted from mine, to Lincoln's, to Michael's, and then settling back on mine again. He was forced to look back at Lincoln when he was grabbed roughly and thrown back on the bonnet.

"Where's the map?"

"Easy…easy," Theodore said. "I don't have it."

"Well where is it?" Michael asked. Lincoln was searching him.

"I'm tellin' ya I don't have it! It was gone when I got there!"

Theodore turned his eyes on me again. It was a tense moment. He had these eyes that made it seem like he was looking right into your soul, an intense stare that rivalled Michael's when he tried hard enough.

"The kid has it," he hissed.

The kid. He could only mean one 'kid', the youngest out of all of us. David Apolskis, my Tweener. I clenched my fists, and Michael was wary. He knew that deep down I still held a grudge against him for sending Tweener away during the manhunt without telling me, without letting me say goodbye. Without telling Tweener that I loved him like a little brother. I didn't get to give him any advice or help. He was just cut loose.

"I saw him this morning," Theodore continued. I watched him with wide eyes. "And I needed some help, we made a deal, alright?"

"A deal?" I repeated. "What kind of deal?"

"He said he could dig, I told him where we could get a map," he replied. Lincoln gripped his collar again.

"What kid?" Lincoln asked.

I almost slapped myself. It was glaringly obvious. "Tweener. He's talking about Tweener."

"Looks like we're gonna go see your boy again, ain't we Emilie?" Theodore smirked, though Lincoln was gripping him painfully tight.

I was torn between happiness and sadness. Tweener was just getting deeper and deeper into trouble. I couldn't let him down this time. With one final glance at Michael, we began our search for Tweener.


	13. Tweener

**A/N: **_Thanks for all the reviews and alerts etc….Tweener's back, yay! Gotta love David Apolskis!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen – Tweener<strong>

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><p>"<em>Every man hath a good and a bad angel attending on him in particular all his life long."<em>  
><strong>- <strong>**Robert Burton.**

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><p>It was a strange experience, sitting in the back of an old car with none other than Theodore Bagwell sitting beside me. He had changed his hair, cradling his bad hand in his other hand, staring out his window. I watched him for a moment, wondering what he had been through in the time that we'd been free, escaped convicts on the run. I doubt that he had joined any knitting clubs or that he was trying to stay out of trouble. That's wasn't his style. Trouble follows Theodore like a magnet.<p>

"That colour really does suit ya Emilie," he smirked.

"Yours, too," I muttered, glancing at Michael. He was rubbing his chin absentmindedly, staring into the horizon.

"Oh shucks, I'm blushin'," he grinned. In a way, I had missed his humour at times. It reminded me of all the times in Fox River when things hadn't been so bad. Days spent planning the escape, hours spent digging the hole. My stomach clenched in a painful knot as I remembered that John had died. One down…

"How was…How was Tweener when you saw him?" I asked.

I knew Michael and Lincoln were listening, and I knew they were watching me too. Of course, Linc's eyes only flickered back and forth in the rear-view mirror because he had to watch the road. I was worried about David. He was the youngest, he was still a kid. I wanted desperately to protect him. I had bonded with him.

Theodore gave me a slick grin. "Let me think…He seemed nervous. Upset." I don't know if he was serious or if he was only saying it to make me feel even worse than I already did. Now I remembered why Theodore was always the one in trouble with the other guys.

He couldn't help his sociopathic tendencies. I checked his body language immediately – though he's smart enough to be very careful with how he does things – and saw he wasn't lying. Of course, David could have been upset because there was a strong chance Theodore had threatened him when asking him to get the map.

"Was he hurt or anything?"

Michael glared at Theodore, before sighing and looking out the window. My heart was actually thumping from my nerves. I can usually stay very calm, but I couldn't help myself. I kept imaging the police chasing after David, and how scared he must have been. All he did was steal a _baseball card_, for God's sake!

"Emilie-…" Michael started.

"No, I want to know," I murmured, not taking my eyes off Theodore. He could reveal something in his body language, and I didn't want to miss it.

"Feelin' bad for abandoning the kid?" he asked.

"I didn't abandon him," I hissed. I shouldn't of let Theodore get to me so easily, but when it came to David I couldn't help myself. "Perhaps you hit your head on the ground after John cut your hand off, and you don't recall that night we escaped. Michael never told me that we left Tweener behind."

"Oh contrary, you could have run right back and gotten him," Theodore whistled.

Guilt panged in my heart, and I scowled. "You and I both know that isn't true. The helicopters were right behind us, I tried to go back and-…"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Emilie," Theodore smirked, looking out the window.

My eyes watered, and I glared out the window, crossing my arms over my chest angrily. Michael slapped his hands together, surprising all of us. "That's it," he growled. Lincoln nodded. Had they planned something? Lincoln pulled over, and they both got out. With one glare at Theodore, I followed suit.

"What are you two doing?" I muttered, my mind churning thinking of Theodore.

"We decided a while back if T-Bag kept causing trouble, we'd take care of it," Michael said, putting his hands on his hips. Speak of the devil, Theodore came out of the car. Lincoln was busy opening the trunk of the car, and I was beginning to realize what they were doing.

"In," Lincoln said simply.

Theodore looked aghast. "Now boys I didn't mean to upset Emilie here-…"

"_Get in_," Michael growled.

Lincoln pulled out the gun for good measure. How could T-Bag say no to that? In fact, I was delighted. Now I could fester in my own self-pity and guilt without that Southern drawl making me feel worse. Begrudgingly, he did as he was told, getting into the trunk. Lincoln slammed it shut and walked away. We would follow soon.

I was about to follow, but Michael put a hand on my shoulder. He kissed me, and I knew that he was feeling bad for leaving Tweener behind without telling me. I knew Michael's conscience was weighed down enough as it was. He felt horrible for letting some bad criminals – especially Theodore Bagwell – out into the world where they could hurt people.

"I'm sorry Emilie," he whispered.

His low latent inhibition made him feel so bad for everyone around him. He worried more about others than himself. Sometimes I wish I could just shake Michael and make him realize what an amazing man he is. I buried my head into his chest, taking in his scent, happy for one moment alone. "Don't be sorry Michael. You know I forgive you."

"He was ratting us out Emilie, to Bellick."

I stepped away from Michael. "_What_?"

"I didn't want to tell you," he continued. "Bellick was using Tweener as a mole. I told him I would allow him to come on the escape, but once we got out, he'd be on his own. That was the deal."

I was speechless. Michael patted my shoulder, taking my hand and leading me towards Lincoln, who had gotten a good bit away from us. Tweener had been a snitch all along. I sure had a bone to pick with him.

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><p>When I saw Tweener, Michael had to pull me back. We watched him from across the street. He was wearing a red cap, red t-shirt and a grey hoody, his trademark swagger in full swing. He looked more…mature, older somehow. Nervous, too. His body language was a mess. Head and eyes tipped to the ground, signalling fear and avoiding eye contact. Hunched posture, hiding something. Tweener wasn't great at being an escaped convict.<p>

"Come on. We'll go in first. If you see anything amiss, follow us in," Michael told Lincoln.

Lincoln nodded, his sunglasses glinting in the sunlight, arms crossed over his chest. He looked threatening. Michael made his way across the street, but before I followed I quickly turned to Linc. He looked at me, confused. I pulled his arms down to swing by his side.

"Try not to look so aggressive. It's a bit suspicious," I smirked, chasing after Michael.

I made it just as Michael opened the door for me. A gardening centre. The bell tinkled as the door shut behind us. I glanced around. Nothing sinister about the place that I could see. Until I saw a cap on the floor. The very cap Tweener had been wearing on his way in here. I nudged Michael, who followed my gaze, nodding when he saw the cap.

"We're closed!" a voice hollered from the back.

If this man thinks I'm going to just walk on out of here when I know my little Tweener is probably in the backroom, hurt, then he has another thing coming. I'm Emilie Robins, and I don't give in easily. I put on a fake, polite smile. A man walked out, fixing his cuffs.

"Sorry bud, we're closed for the night," the man said. I was itching to run past him, to get to Tweener. I knew Michael was thinking the same. The man frowned, eyes wide. "Hey, hold on…stay right there…" He knew who we were. His eyes flitted to mine, getting ready to lunge. But Michael knew straight away what the guy was planning.

He nudged the small of my back, giving me a clear sign. I ran past the man. I heard him yell and felt him lunge to grab me, but Michael tackled him in time. I got to the back, feeling my feet pound against the wooden floorboards.

"Tweener?" I called desperately. I heard him groan in pain. Instantly I slammed the door open, my eyes adjusting to the dark. There he was, his wrists tied together, twisting and turning. I got onto my knees, pulling at the ropes. I rubbed his face, checked that he was properly aware. He had been either been punched or hit by something. But he'd recover. It wasn't too bad.

"Emilie," he groaned. "Emilie…"

"Oh you'll be fine David," I smiled. "I'm right here!"

He groaned again. I chuckled, finally untying the ropes.

"You drama queen," I murmured, hugging him tightly. "What you trippin' on Alice?" I laughed, repeating the same line he had said to Theodore back in Fox Rivers. He laughed too, but I knew he was crying too. His tears soaked my neck. Things were too chaotic for poor Tweener. Sometimes I forgot how young he was. He was still a kid just trying to survive. He was a good kid, just trying to survive. I hugged him even tighter.

I heard the bell tinkle again, knowing Lincoln had entered the building. Tweener sniffled. I didn't have an tissues for him. Convicts carry guns, not tissues. So I did my best to mop him up.

"I-I'm sorry Emilie," he babbled.

"Don't say sorry David," I murmured, focusing on cleaning him up rather than how upset I was with finding out he had snitched on us all along. I was torn. One part of me wanted to be angry with him, but the other part knew he did it because he was scared, and because Bellick had bullied him into submission. Bellick would either make his life easy, or make it Hell, and I knew if I was as naïve and young as Tweener, I would've chosen the easy way out.

"Emilie!" Lincoln's voice rang out. "Hurry up!"

"So impatient," I muttered. "Okay, come on David!"

I hauled him up. Michael was at the doorway, and he helped me. Now we'd have to head back to the car. I didn't like the idea of putting Tweener anywhere near Theodore, but what choice did I have?


	14. Goose Chase

**A/N: **_Sorry for such a late update! I had no internet and had no way of updating, so I sincerely apologize :) Thanks for the patience and all the reviews etc… :)_

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen – Goose Chase<strong>

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><p>"<em>I am who I am today because of the choices I made yesterday."<em>

**Eleanor Roosevelt.**

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><p>Tweener looked younger, yet more mature somehow. It was a confusing mix. Had he gotten taller, too? He was rubbing the spot where he had been hit on his head. Michael awkwardly watched us, before ripping the phone from the wall. Lincoln appeared, having tied up the owner of this gardening store and leaving him in the backroom. Great, we'd get a head-start.<p>

"How'd you find me?" Tweener asked.

"T-Bag," Michael said simply. Tweener's face paled. Of course, even mentioning that redneck scared the crap out of him. You could hardly blame him. I felt like strangling Theodore myself. Tweener's eyes locked with mine, before Lincoln pushed past me. He gripped Tweener's collar. Oh, trust Linc to be the brute. I put my hand on Lincoln's bicep, intend on pulling him away. I saw Tweener as a little brother, whether they liked it or not. Michael patted my shoulder, and I knew this was important. I let Lincoln go, feeling horrible once again.

"The map," Lincoln growled.

"What?" Tweener asked. If he did have the map, I desperately hoped he'd tell us. I wouldn't allow Lincoln to punch him. Just look at how sweaty and scared Tweener was. He was looking right at me, obviously hoping I'd somehow tear Lincoln off of him and save the day. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to do that.

"Hand it over," Lincoln hissed.

"Please, David," I begged. Lincoln was a big guy. I doubted I could get him off David if he punched him or something.

"He told you I had it?" Tweener laughed, and I knew straight away that Theodore had pulled the wool over our eyes. Again. And we'd fallen right into his little trap. Lincoln's eyes went wide for a moment, probably thinking the exact same thing as I did. Michael put his hands on his head, something he did often when he was frustrated.

"Oh, dang," I muttered, wiping my hands over my face.

"Come on," Michael sighed. "We're going to go find that hick and find the map."

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><p>On the way back to the car, Tweener kept a quick pace beside me, while the brothers walked a few feet ahead of us. He picked up a piece of my hair just like Theodore had done and gave me a large smile. His swagger wasn't as strong as before, it was far weaker, and he had clearly matured somehow. "Likin' the look Em."<p>

I laughed. "Thanks David. How have you been?" I bit my lip as I thought about how we had just abandoned him during the escape. It was difficult to think about. I ruffled his shaved head, missing the feeling of his messy hair. "I'm so sorry David." Tears stung at my eyes just thinking about what he went through.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, shrugging.

"Michael told about you…well, you know…with Bellick," I said awkwardly, referring to his snitching on us. He kept his eyes cast on the ground, obviously ashamed. So ashamed he couldn't even look at me.

Weakly, he muttered, "He offered me a good deal. I thought it would help me out. You knew about Avacado. I did what I had to do Emilie. Michael he…don't blame him man, he was just doin' what he thought was right."

I watched him for a moment, still amazed at how he had matured in just weeks. "What did you do?" I asked. "You know, where did you hide?"

He shrugged again, stuffing his hands into his pockets, meeting my eyes this time. He had a familiar sparkle in his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. I gave him a sly smile myself. Only one thing could make a boy his age act like that.

"A girl?" I asked.

He blinked. "How did you…Never mind, I should know you well enough by now to know I can't get nothin' by you. Yeah, it was a girl."

"Oooh!" I squealed, utterly delighted. Michael and Lincoln glanced back, at first in alarm, before realising there was no threat and just continuing their walk. I could see the car in the horizon. Our little redneck would be lying right in there, waiting. Doubt he went anywhere. "What's her name? Is she cute, did she find out who you were or did you get away before anything happened?"

His cheeks turned a beetroot red colour and he gave me a playful shove.

"You're blushing!" I shrieked, giggling at his expression. It was nice to see him act like a real kid for once.

"Her name is Debra Jean Belle," he said.

"Debra Jean Belle," I repeated, testing it out. If she made Tweener smile like this, I liked her already. I grinned at him. "So she's a total hottie, right?"

His blush grew darker. "_Emilie_!"

"What? I bet she is, if she managed to make a handsome kid like you all lovey dove-y like this. David 'Tweener' Apolskis, you're in love, aren't you? Do I hear wedding bells?" Okay, it was a slight exaggeration, but it was just so nice to see him smile like that.

He glanced at the brothers, as if he thought they would be listening in on our conversation. "A'ight, let me tell you straight up. She's the prettiest, sweetest, nicest girl I ever met, Emilie, for real."

"After me, of course," I said, grinning again.

"After you, of course," he agreed, smirking right back. "But…we stopped at this motel…." Oh, I see.

"I hope you used protection."

"Man shut up! I wasn't talkin' about that," he blushed, shoving me again. Michael and Lincoln stopped up ahead, waiting for us so we could open the trunk together. Michael had his hands on his hips – the man is just the definition of sexy, I have to say – and Lincoln was staring right at us through his sunglasses. We'd catch up sooner or later. "A cop came to the door."

I stared at him, eyes wide. "A copper? What happened?"

"She…She lied for me," he said. "And she let me take her car."

I rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry David."

Again, he shrugged it off. "No worries dude."

"Would you two hurry up?"

I glared at Lincoln, though it wasn't as effective in this bright sunlight. Michael gave us a timid smile, and we made it to the car. Lincoln gave Tweener a rough shove, and he bumped against me. I rolled my eyes. Michael strolled in long strides ahead of us.

"We're gonna sort this out right now," he said.

He opened the trunk, and we all gathered round, peering in. Theodore blocked the bright sunlight with his bad hand, showing a small piece of paper on his chest. If that's what I think it is, then I was take him into that field right beside us and crucify him. That sly son of a bitch! The only good thing that came out of this wild goose chase was finding Tweener.

"Tell me that's not what I know it is," Michael said.

Ah, so he had figured it all out too. I bet he'd be joining me in that field if I got my hands on Theodore. He got out of the trunk. He gave us his slyest, darkest grin, balancing himself on the edge of the trunk and picking up that little piece of paper. I'd have to take some tips from Theodore on how to be a better criminal, because he was a real professional. He was a strategist, like Michael. He always taught of things three steps ahead.

"It is," Theodore smiled. "But don't worry, before I destroyed it, I committed it to my photographic memory."

"Oh, joy," I muttered sarcastically. He gave me a bright grin.

"From a compulsive liar I find that a little hard to believe," Michael said.

"I would've tattooed it to my body, but I didn't have the time," Theodore joked, spitting the last of the paper on the ground.

I had to admit, I smiled at that joke. I wished we could just…be rid of Theodore. He had this way of making you like him, then manipulating you and turning you against him. I could never tell if I liked him or not. More often than not, I hated him for everything he did to us.


	15. Childish Tantrums

**Chapter Fifteen - Childish Tantrums**

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><p>"<em>I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking."<em>

**Finnick Odair.**

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><p>Threatening Theodore was something we seemed to do a lot, or at least it felt like that. Physically torturing him would take far too long. He was good with pain, able to withstand a whole lot of it. Heck, he had lost his <em>hand<em> and still survived. I put my hands on my hips, listening to him as he tried to convince us to let him lead us to the money. And, we really had no other choice, did we? We had to agree. With a bright smile on his face, Theodore got into the backseat of the car. Just great, that means I get to sit next him for the next hour or two, or however long it'll take us to find this pain-in-the-ass money.

Michael and Lincoln shared a look, before Lincoln shoved Tweener towards the trunk. My mouth fell open. No, they weren't going to just lock him up in the truck. Tweener protested, but Lincoln pushed him inside and closed it. I instantly went to help him, but Mike blocked me. He opened his arms towards me. "Emilie, come on-…"

I crossed my arms over my chest, and took ten steps away from the car. "No way Michael. You don't need to put him in the trunk, I can sit between him and Theodore, this is just ridiculous."

I turned my back on them. Perhaps they'd give in. Let him out, let him sit beside me. It seemed that wasn't happening. A pair of arms appeared around my knees, picking me up and flinging me over their shoulders. Lincoln, of course, using his brute strength to force me into doing what he and Michael wanted. I fought back, punching his shoulders, yelling, just preparing to bite him when he threw me into the back seat. I slammed against Theodore, who chuckled.

"Oh Emilie sweet-pea, we got this whole car ride to get acquainted."

I grumbled, shoving myself away from him and staring out the window. I refused to look at Michael or Lincoln. They were being ridiculous, utterly stupid. Michael kept glancing back at me in the rear-view mirror. I could hear Tweener slamming against the trunk every now and then. Poor kid.

"Looks like you're in the dog house with your missus there Pretty," Theodore smirked. Michael didn't even bother with a response. Darn right he was in the dog house. I still had my arms crossed over my chest, uncrossing them when I realized how childish I must look, because I was pouting a little too.

I hated it when Michael and Lincoln did things together, ignoring my own opinion completely. Tweener had ratted us out, sure, but I still think he could be allowed to sit out here with us. Whatever. I made sure to give Michael's chair a little kick as I adjusted myself in the seat. Fine, I'm childish, so what? Sue me.

Theodore began giving directions. At first, they were just fine and we seemed to be on the right track. But slowly they became more vague. Was it a left, or a right? And he'd take his sweet time replying. I knew he was having trouble remembering. He knew if he didn't come up with something, Lincoln would pull over and have a field-day beating his ass on the side of the road.

He started talking about Thailand and the black market. I barely listened to him, glaring out the window. The sun was really beating down on us today. He was just babbling his way through this, talking about getting a prosthetic hand or something. I doubt he realized that it wouldn't be the same skin colour as his, and knowing that Theodore was a racist white supremacist pig, that would cause some problems. I decided not to point this out. Let the shock of it all get to him when he's in Thailand buying this new hand of his.

"Turn off here," he said.

"Before or after sheep road?" Lincoln asked.

For a moment, Theodore didn't look too sure. He glanced back as if he was hoping there'd be a sign somewhere.

"What's the matter Theodore, you forget?" Michael asked, using his full name for the first time in a long while.

"How can I forget a road called _sheep_?" he replied smartly.

I glanced over at him, watching him as he spoke to Lincoln and Michael, not really hearing what he was saying. Theodore was always good at getting himself out of sticky situations. He was a born survivor. Tweener, however, needed me. He stole a baseball card. He was still growing up, learning who he was.

He could survive this, with a little help, and live his life without looking back. I didn't want him to be a criminal forever. Imagine if he had met that Debra girl in another situation. He wasn't a convict, he was just a normal kid. He could've asked her out, life would've been easier for him. Lincoln took the car down a beaten track.

"Emilie? Emilie?"

I blinked, looking at Michael. "What?" I snapped. Oops. Well, he knew I was pissed off anyway. He and Lincoln hadn't even given me a chance to convince them to let Tweener stay in the seat beside me, inside of just stuffing him into the trunk of this car.

"Come on. We're getting out," he replied, quietly this time. I'd probably hurt his feelings. Good. Now he knows what it feels like to just be blatantly ignored.

"Great, great, just leave David all alone in the trunk," I muttered, kicking at the car and storming on ahead of them.

"Woo-wee, you gon' have to do some grovellin' tonight Pretty, she is one unhappy lady," Theodore whistled from far away. I heard Lincoln's usual threats, his usual 'if you don't shut up I'll knock your lights out' violence. Typical. We didn't miss the sign saying 'Private Property, no trespassing'. I figure this isn't the most illegal thing we've done. It's way down on the list, so we'll just add that to our list of felonies to look at later.

Remember that book I said I was gonna write? Well, I'd dedicate it to a lot of people, but Tweener would be one of the top people on my list, because he was sitting back in that trunk in the sweltering heat. I could barely handle it out here, and I was in a dress. Michael caught up with me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I felt like shrugging it away, but I don't like this awkwardness with Michael whenever we involved Tweener.

"Look Emilie, I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," I muttered, kicking at the sandy dirt. "I just…You didn't even give me a chance to convince you of letting Tweener sit with us in the car. Getting Lincoln to just pick me up like that and throw me in the back of the car was…irritating," I finished lamely.

He took my hand, slipping something into my pocket. An origami bird entwined with a rose. Of course, Michael knew just how to worm his way back into my heart. He gave me a kiss, too, and I forgave him. Jeez, being a convict was hard work. I thought of how John's family must be feeling now, mourning his death. They had _just _gotten him back, only to lose him again.

"Some day Em, we're gonna be lying on a sandy beach in Panama, and this will just be a distant memory," he smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Relaxing, drinking, forgetting about all of this."

"Sounds good to me," I smiled.


	16. The KK Ranch

**A/N: **_I love Tweener, he's so adorable. Any-who, dear readers, here you go! :) Enjoy! :) Now, I do have a plan for a third season. But I'd like to know what you guys think. Continue on with Lincoln in Panama somehow – though I think that would be super boring.. ;) – or Emilie breaks out of a prison herself, as you do. Let me know ;) :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen - The KK Ranch<strong>

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><p>"<em>Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."<em>

**Oscar Wilde.**

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><p>There was a certain feeling of hope being crushed inside my stomach as I looked at this KK ranch. Why? Because it wasn't there. Instead, pristine clean new houses were lined up in neat rows. It was a housing estate, large and beautiful, I must admit. I wouldn't mind living in a house like that. Only, those houses were what stood between us and the money. Theodore was staggering beside me, and I could hear his breathing speed up as he tried to control himself. He was furious. We all were.<p>

Things like this always seemed to get in the way for us. Nothing could ever be easy peasy, lemon squeeze-y for us. Some unseen phantom had it out for us. Look at the bright side Emilie, there was always a bright side. We weren't dead, like John. We weren't holed up in a trunk in the sweltering heat, like poor Tweener. And we hadn't been caught by the authorities just yet. We still had a chance.

All the houses looked identical. Some were different colours, but that was really the only thing separating them from one another. Nothing was unique. We all looked to Michael. He was our genius, our strategist, our hero. But then he looked at me, as if I held all the information. Because he looked at me, Lincoln and Theodore did too.

"We're gonna have to head back to the car. Drive around a bit, see if Theodore recognizes anything from the map. We'd have more luck if he hadn't gotten peckish and eaten it," I shrugged.

He scowled at me. Michael nodded in approval. "She's right. What else can we do?"

"I can think of a couple things," Lincoln shrugged. "Beat T-Bag up and leave him lying here in the sun all day…"

"You make me feel so warm inside Sink. You're a real pal, you know that?" Theodore muttered sarcastically, storming off ahead of us.

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><p>"What, you got a divining rod tattooed on your ass?"<p>

Sometimes, I imagined punching Theodore in the face. Then punching him some more, gouging his eyes out and roasting him alive just for the fun of it. I'm not a naturally violent person, but he just brings out the darker side of me. It seems Michael couldn't control his temper either.

"I don't want to hear anything out of your mouth other than what your photographic memory spits out regarding that map!" he roared.

Both Theodore and I sat staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers for a few seconds. Even Lincoln didn't really know what to do. He turned to look out the window. None of us had heard Michael yell like that, and we didn't truly know how to handle it. I watched him carefully, worried. All the stress was weighing down on his shoulders. I'd do anything to take that weight from him.

"Watch your tone with me, boy," Theodore growled, leaning forward in his chair. I rolled my eyes.

"I'll watch you get tossed to the side of the road to fend for yourself, _boy, _because if you can't remember where that silo was, you're worthless to us," Michael said without pause. I did a little girlish cheerleader cheer inwardly. _Yay Michael, he's the man! _Of course, I didn't say this out loud. I wasn't sure Theodore would handle it very well. I'd probably end up being strangled – just because he was missing one hand didn't mean he couldn't do it. You'd be surprised with what that hick could do when he put his mind to it.

"Yo' fool let me out!"

There was a thump on the trunk.

"Shut up," Lincoln replied, though I didn't think Tweener could hear him he spoke so lowly. Three more thumps followed. How much air was in that trunk anyway? I had read a few books where the protagonist is thrown in a trunk and begins to run out of air. I sighed, massaging my temples and closing my eyes for a few seconds.

Michael's loud yell made me open them straight away. "_The map_!"

I averted my gaze towards Theodore. Tweener was still yelling in the background as he tried to babble his way through this again.

"…and the ranch house was surrounded by trees."

From the look on Michael's face, Theodore had just said something useful, for once. I leaned forward, craning my neck to see past the brothers who blocked my view. Eventually I gave up and got out, putting a hand over my eyes to see because the sun was blinding me. The three men followed suit, slamming the doors behind them.

A jogger ran past, glancing over. I gave him a polite smile. He kept going, looking less suspicious. We stared around.

"Where's the Silo?"

"Iiiinside the trees…I'm gonna say on the left, but that may have been a barn," Theodore murmured, trying desperately to remember. This photographic memory of his was, frankly, shit. He's just clutching at straws. "I remembered the best I could gents, but I didn't know this place would now be smothered in track tom so I'm sorry I'm not rain-man over here."

With a dejected heart, I trudged back to the car. Things just couldn't get any worse, could they? I punched the car lightly as if it would solve all my problems. For the next few moments, we sat in the car discussing what to do and trying to get Theodore to remember where everything was on the map.

I spotted some trees, and there weren't any others of that height around here. I pointed in that direction. "The trees, Mike." He understood pretty quickly, a large smile appearing on his face. He pointed it out to the other two, because they just looked totally confused.

"Right there."

He pointed to a house that looked just the same as the others. The only thing that made it special were the trees. The money had to be there somewhere. Imagine living in that house, not knowing five million dollars was just lying right there beneath it. As Michael explained why it was so important, I took note of some things about the house. There was a car outside. It must be lived in. Unlike some of the other houses, it had a trashcan outside too. The ones that were vacant didn't have these things outside. Meaning we had yet another problem to deal with.

"Michael, we might have something else to deal with-…" I began.

That's when a blonde woman walked on out of the house, and they realized what I was talking about. We all shared some grunts and sighs of annoyance.

"Ain't no problem that a screwdriver to her temple won't fix."

I glared at Theodore. Of course he turns to murder to solve things. I refused to let him harm this woman though. It was just her bad luck that she was going to run into some convicts from Fox Rivers. Fox River Nine turned to Eight, since we lost Abruzzi. And we could've lost some others that we didn't know about.

"No, Theodore," I said. "We're not hurting her."

"Oh listen to Saint Emilie over here," he muttered.

"She's right T-Bag, we're not going to hurt her," Michael said, unable to keep his hatred for Theodore from his voice.

"People die all the time…five million dollars only comes once in a lifetime." I could hear the excitement in his voice.

Tweener was thumping in the trunk, Lincoln looked fit to punch someone and Michael had that intense, concentrated look on his face as he tried to think of something. I looked at Theodore and said, "We're not going to hurt her, do you understand me?"

He winked.

"I got a plan," Lincoln said, before starting up the car.


End file.
